


Outlaws (No Heart's Resistance)

by LaMarwy



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Bonding, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, guess what? another slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:07:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 34,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28595208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaMarwy/pseuds/LaMarwy
Summary: You won’t be able to protect us all, Zelda Spellman.When Lilith wakes up in the abandoned church, the world seems alarmingly different. Afraid and confused, she takes her son and flees into the woods heading to the only person who can help her understand what's going on. Zelda, however, has forgotten her magical nature. Being the only one aware of the perverted world they're in, Lilith needs to find a way to restore reality; a deep, unexpected bond ensues. In the end, is going back really worth it?
Relationships: Zelda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith
Comments: 109
Kudos: 107





	1. Prologue (Chapter I)

**Author's Note:**

> This is set during episode 4 (CAOS, part 4): Blackwood is Emperor, Greendale is under his dictatorship, and life for witches or those pointed out as witches is literal Hell.  
>  **Canon Divergence** & MadamSpellman centric, of course.

Outlaws (No Heart's Resistance), teaser trailer:  
<https://youtu.be/-VD8OzPU4fw>

**Prologue**

Her choked cry echoed through the almost completely hollow space.

She blinked herself awake, panic rising within her chest as she took in the surroundings. There was a feeble whistle in her ears, and when she tried to move, she winced in confusion when she found herself bound - wrists and ankles chained to a wooden chair, the seat hard and uncomfortable against her back.

Lilith was not in the Academy anymore, but in the Desecrated Church, once a place of communion for the Dark Lord’s worshippers; she had walked on those floors several times herself already, under the guise of excommunicated Ms. Wardwell, when she was supposed to lead Sabrina to her Dark Baptism. It all seemed so far away, now. Many things had changed - too many, perhaps.

Yet her current status remained a mystery: how did she get there, in the Desecrated Church, the place unrecognizable with all those weird-looking banners hanging from the walls? She couldn’t remember walking there willingly. What if the Coven and Zelda Spellman betrayed her? Did Hilda put something in her meals? No, that couldn’t be the case, because then why was she still on Earth, and not burning among the flames of hellfire, damned for eternity to agony, finally facing Lucifer’s wrath? And Adam? Where was Adam? Did Lucifer take her son, at last?

It was right when panic started to bloom like a disease that she heard the familiar lament of him, the same that kept her awake at night and restless during the day, that whining that she had started to hate so much and that now seemed like the sweetest of sounds. But from where did it come from? Lilith could barely see.

She needed to free herself from those bounds, retrieve Adam and go back to Academy, fast, to get to the bottom of that matter.

She pulled at her bindings, frowning deeply when her arms barely moved, the chains digging into her flesh almost painfully. Lilith could feel it: those chains were not enchanted, nor special, those bindings were simply made of pure iron and seemingly indestructible nonetheless. She focused her energies on the shackles, squinting her eyes as she struggled to break them - it didn’t work.

_What was the matter?_ The cries of her son grew louder, and her throat tightened.

«Adam, I’m here.» She spoke, a shiver running down her spine when she heard the echo of her own voice bouncing from wall to wall, adding to the cries.

She focused _all_ her energies on her binding then, she let the desire of breaking free merge with the relentless need of answering her son’s calling for her, and the undying will of being reunited with him; together they washed over and through her, feeding her magic, finally bursting the chains open.

She let out a gasp when it happened, too tired to do anything else, and stood up on shaky legs, frantically looking for the source of those familiar cries. There was a throb in her head now, a needle piercing at her temples, making all her efforts difficult as she ran from side to side, looking between the benches, behind the roots of the trees that broke into the Church through the windows and the holes in the walls. As she winced at the pain and kept searching, she vaguely acknowledged the clothes she was wearing: not her glamorous red dress anymore, but anonymous ones, dark pants and a shirt of the same color, made just to be invisible and not stand out. It was all odd, to say the least, but right now she couldn’t care less.

«Adam!» She cried out, desperation clawing at her throat now.

When the throb in her head started to ebb away, she froze on the spot, her ears twitching at her son’s calling. Blue eyes scanned the place slowly until her gaze settled on the marble font, the one that the Church of Night used to bless babies after their birth, bathing them in an offering of sacrificial blood. The crimson smearing looked oddly fresh now, but she decided to ignore that.

Lilith strode there, sighing in relief when she indeed found Adam nestled in there, in a cocoon of maroon blankets that doubled the size of him. She scooped him up in her arms, holding him close to her chest, gently rocking him to shush his cries.

«There there, my cherub little devil.» She crooned, baring her teeth into a nervous smile when Adam peered up at her despite the wandering newborn’s eyes being unable to focus on her face.

Partially feeling at ease now, Lilith looked around again, squinting her eyes when she saw a couple of people walking outside the Church, their silhouettes confused behind the wood planks nailed to the windows, but she was sure they were wearing some sort of uniform, the metallic thud of a sword hitting the side of their boots with every step they took.

_Seriously, what was going on?_

«Finally that brat stopped fussing.» One of them snarled.

«Just wait until the Emperor arrives, then he’ll stop fussing for good.»

Lilith backed away from the front door, dread spreading inside her at the thought of those two coming in and finding her free and with Adam. What were they talking about, who was the Emperor? Lucifer perhaps? Did he take over the Earth and claimed it as the tenth circle, following Caliban’s plan? Did He have an army of minions sent for the sole purpose of retrieving their son?

She needed to get out of there before Lucifer - or the Emperor - arrived.

She needed to find the Academy and go back to Zelda Spellman. She was the only one who could help her, again, her and her Coven and their triple-faced Goddess.

She shushed Adam again, begging for him to decide not to have a fit right there and then, and crouched beside a rather large hole in the wall. She waited for the two sentinels to round the Church once again, then crawled out of it, rushing to the forest, hoping the trees would grant her some protection.

That very little use of magic had seemed to have drained out all her energies from her. Perhaps she’d been drugged with something - that wouldn’t be surprising and would actually explain the blank in her head and the struggle she had to face to simply break some iron chains around her wrists and ankles.

She was tired and Adam was too. She longed for her claimed bed in Zelda Spellman’s office and the baby probably for his bassinet. Luckily enough, the Academy was just beyond that hill.

She panted, holding the bundle close to her chest when she climbed the hill, eager to reach shelter inside the building that hosted her as a guest for days; the only place she’d felt safe in months, years - well, millennia, maybe.

Lilith smiled when she reached the gravel path just outside the Academy, but it died almost instantly, her relieved expression turning quickly into a frown when she saw the black letter painted on the red doors of the building.

_For how long was she gone?_

Not days, she supposed, since nobody had come to look for her, nor summoned her.

Carefully looking both sides to be sure that no sentinels were in sight, she walked outside the woods and marched toward the safeness of the Academy, a million questions for Zelda Spellman already crowding her head, growing in numbers with every step she took as she climbed up the stairs.

She took one last peek behind her back, fearing every peril at behind her, ready to snatch her baby away - Lucifer, the kings, Caliban, literally everyone else - and, balancing Adam in one arm, she knocked on the door, strong as to produce a loud enough noise to be heard inside. She winced, because she wasn’t used to the stinging sensation on her knuckles, and retrieved her hand, hiding it under Adam’s blanket. Whatever drug they used to numb her had been definitely a heavy one.

Lilith waited, stomach crumpling in dread, each instant she spent there, outside, exposed, she and Adam were at stake.

After what it looked like an eternity - and she knew very well what an eternity felt like - the door cracked open, and there she was, Zelda Spellman, red hair perfectly curled, black and white lace blouse and high waist pencil skirt, glaring at her.

«Yes?» She inquired, cocking an eyebrow, and then took a drag from her cigarette.

Lilith stared at her, lips parted. She couldn’t claim to know Zelda Spellman very well, but every time she’d bumped into her while she was smoking, the witch would always use a gold ring holder. The lack of it was odd, but not impossible - overall, it just felt weird. The demoness frowned, blinking away that temporal befuddlement - and how come she hadn’t already showered with questions?

«I found myself in the Desecrated Church and I don’t remember how I got there.» She mumbled, clearing her throat. «Do you happen to know what’s going on around here?» She inquired, eyes darting around for a moment. She didn’t like being stationed outside. «May I come in?»

Lilith approached without waiting for an invitation, after all, they were the ones who offered her and Adam asylum in the first place, but just when she moved, the baby cooed, and Zelda stepped to the side, blocking her way; peering up, Lillith took in her face: green eyes wide, her face alarmed.

«This is a school, not a nursery.» She snarled with a small, quivering voice, seemingly afraid to be heard.

«I am aware of that.» Lilith breathed out flatly, brow pinched. She didn’t like it, not one bit. She soothed the baby, quickly shushing him, and ranked her gaze on the witch standing tall in front of her, physically blocking passage. She needed to be cautious, whatever was going on.

She watched Zelda dragging from her cigarette again, then exhaled upward, away from her and Adam, the white cloud of smoke dissipating into thin air in a blink. She muttered something under her breath, then sighed.

«Is the baby marked?» She inquired with a scoff.

«Marked?» Lilith shook her head, losing again the trial of thoughts. Too many questions swirling in her head, too many answers to chase, and Zelda who was supposedly the one who had them, was literally about to turn her away. If it was begging the witch was after, well then Lilith would beg - for Adam, yes, of course she would beg. «Zelda, please. I don’t know what’s going on, and–»

«How do you know my name?»

Lilith froze immediately, taking in the nervous state of the witch, almost shivering before her. How come she’d _forgotten_? Now everything seemed to make sense: Zelda Spellman didn’t know her - but how? Did Lucifer create the Tenth Circle, wiping away her existence from everyone’s mind, so she would be alone to face the upcoming battle? Would she have to stand on her own to protect Adam?

She needed to act and to think quickly. Perhaps she could pry on her cult and remind her of the second face of her Goddess, the Mother, so she would feel somehow obliged to shelter her and Adam inside. But then again, if Lucifer was behind that madness, did still Zelda Spellman worship Hecate?

«I’ve been sent here.» Lilith stammered, swallowing hard as she tried to determine whether she was on the right track or not. 

The witch frowned then, softening her grimace.

«By whom?» She inquired, crossing her arms. Lilith watched her dropping her cigarette, killing the orange ashes with the sole of her shoe, green eyes never leaving hers.

The demoness swallowed thickly. Perhaps she could say Hilda’s name? Sabrina’s? She could’ve named anyone from the Coven or from the Spellman family, but it was a risk. She couldn’t risk Adam’s safety, or her own right now.

She bit down the inside of her cheek, the tip of her tongue running along the rim of her chapped lips. When she walked closer, clutching Adam close to her, this time Zelda didn’t move. It was something already.

«Please, let me in.»

* * *

There was a time when her Art School thrived. But those golden ages seemed to distance right now, that Zelda barely remembered them.

Walking slowly in the main hall, her heart clenched at the sight of the bronze bust dominating the area, reminding her constantly of the sole idol that should exist, the Emperor, his will absolute and unquestionable.

Zelda hated it. She hated the hollow spaces in the walls, where once there were paintings; she hated the banners hanging from the railings, installed there as proof that her school, as well, was spreading the Emperor’s knowledge; she hated the gloomy faces of her students, deprived of their talents, the occasion to express themselves through art stripped from them because, those too, were to be tamed under the leash and the bindings of the Emperor’s rules.

Trapped inside her school for they were all orphans, they paced around restlessly, eager to find peace in their studies, but finding none in the few endorsed books, each one of those filled with gibberish about the superior ways of the mortals, exalting the Emperor’s mission to eradicate witches from society and everything else that he found unworthy or simply profane according to his ways.

She once loved to be part of that world, she loved teaching and feeding those young, creative minds. But now they couldn’t research, they couldn’t explore, and instead of thriving, they simply had to focus on self-preservation.

Ever since the day in which the Emperor’s army had marked the school’s doors, sentinels loomed around the building every hour ready to invade her home and gather proof that the letter painted as a warning told nothing but the truth: Zelda Spellman was hosting witches among her ranks, which made everyone guilty and the sought after candidates for the next brutal execution.

The world she once loved so much, had fallen into despair where survival was the only thing that mattered. And despite Zelda feeling like she was crumbling down piece by piece, every day a bigger chunk, she kept on going for those children who willingly or not, depended on her; the same ones that, with the last decision taken, she had put in terrible danger, much more than they were already. Because those were dark times if one was seeking to pursue knowledge, and even darker times if one was blessed, or cursed, with a baby to protect. Directly or indirectly, Zelda Spellman was both, and she had dragged all the students and every person connected to her, into that blackness without even asking if they would agree.

Just like every day, she smiled at every student she stumbled upon, encouraging them to _just_ study those obnoxious books, to _just_ learn those fanfares, to _just_ try and fit in among the rest of the world withheld by the Emperor’s grasp of steel. There was nothing else she could do about it: every day equal to the next, a constant fight to just stay above water and breathe. But the time was about to arrive when sooner or later, things would change for the better and her school, just like the rest of the town, would see the light and would thrive again. She knew that would happen: she could feel it in her bones, that they would, eventually, succeed.

Zelda strode to the headquarters, toward her office where, in the adjacent room that was her home for six days per week, she had hidden her dirty little secret.

_Lilith_ , she said. Lilith who had no last name, or didn’t want to reveal it - wise, probably, seen the times they were. Lilith who she shouldn’t have taken in. Lilith, who had an unmarked baby with her. Lilith, who knew her name but didn’t explain how. Lilith, who found herself bound inside the Emperor’s Church and didn’t know why. Lilith, who seemed to be talking like a mad person, but she was probably just desperate. Lilith who was probably pointed out as a witch, just like them, but probably wasn’t, just like them.

Zelda threw her head back, staring up at the ceiling as she exhaled sharply. She’d made a bad decision. She knew she would regret it.  
But then again, she knew in the depths of her soul, that taking Lilith and her baby in, had been the right thing to do.


	2. Chapter II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're safe here, I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

Chapter II

The first time she was in the Academy, she’d just stood in the hall, and listened and begged while Zelda Spellman rejected her; the second time she’d begged Zelda Spellman to save her and her baby’s life after she’d been cursed, somehow, with a spell meant to make her innards explode, and Zelda Spellman helped her, offering the asylum she once had refused; that was the third time she found in need of Zelda Spellman’s protection, hence the third time she found herself in her Academy.

The thing was, this time, the building didn't resemble the one she knew. Yes, she hardly had the time to look around - both times terrified to die - but there was something off lingering in the very air.

Zelda Spellman had taken her in, but made her sneak into the Academy from another door, lead her to a maze of corridors and halls, directly into the headquarters, and shoved her into her own chambers, urging her to stay put no matter what.

And so there she was, perched on the bed, constantly rocking Adam to avoid another of his fits, her blue eyes roaming around the room she should find familiar but that, in truth, just wasn’t. Of course, she’d been put there after she’d just given birth and her brain wasn’t the most reliable thing at the moment, and then when the fog ebbed out in her head, she had only eyes for her newborn son - the demonic creature that didn’t seem demonic at all, for whom she’d discovered a whole spectrum of emotion she’d suppressed and forgotten throughout the years.  
Hence, Lilith had been too busy to mind the chambers per se, and yet, she felt like she was inside a completely different environment.

Because once the witch had left her there, closing the doors, Lilith had immediately looked for the black crib by the fire to put Adam in and wrapped him cozily to let him rest, but with surprise, she realized there was no crib anymore. And then she looked around and realized that a lot of other things were gone, or were simply different: there were no candles, no fire crackling in the mantel, all the shelves were empty from trinkets, the walls were spotted with lighter halos where once paintings were hanged, the silky bedspread was replaced with a sober wooly one of an anonymous brown, there were no pillows except for those needed to actually sleep, no fur carpet, just the bare floor of smooth tiles of old wood.

She had so many questions brewing inside of her like a storm about to burst.

It all seemed the same - the people, the places - but it just wasn’t the same; Lilith had awoken in a world that hardly resembled the one she lived in. What was Lucifer’s plan? Did he actually find a way to change reality in order to transform the Earth into the Tenth Circle? But then what were the consequences for this escapade of his? How much could she try to change things back?

The only one who could help was Sabrina, but she was not around apparently, and Lilith couldn’t leave Adam behind - the outside was too dangerous for either of them.

Zelda Spellman was the only one available, but then again, how much did she know about the perverted reality she was living in? After all, Zelda Spellman didn’t recognize her.  
Zelda Spellman didn’t recognize her but took her in nonetheless, unaware that she and Adam were already under her protective wing… in the other reality - the real one.

Yet in this one, since she seemed to have forgotten a rather important detail like herself and the baby - Lucifer’s son - she’d delivered, how much did she remember - _at all_?  
Was she aware she owned magic, of being a witch, of hosting an entire Coven of skilled boys and girls in her beloved Academy, of worshipping Hecate, a Goddess that brought them tremendous powers?

If the Dark Lord was behind all this, he would’ve likely wiped their memory completely, lest risking them to ruin his perfect little perversion and fight back to restore the Earth as a realm of its own and not just an extension of the Infernal one. It made sense, in a way, that they were all sleepwalkers of some sort, wandering in some lives cut out for them, where they had nothing else to do but keep on going.

And then, what horrors were just outside those walls?

Monsters from the pit, everlasting flames breathed on the wretched by hydras, flying harpies ready to snatch people, hordes of hellhounds preying in the woods at night, and a whole legion of human-like sentinels in uniform to complete the army. The options were endless. And how many she avoided to get there to the Academy and to Zelda Spellman?

She had to stop thinking about it, because no matter what was lurking out there, she was now safe and sound, with Adam, and that was all that mattered.

She needed to face that new reality slowly and wisely, one step at the time, which, for now, meant playing along like another pawn of that sick game of the so-called Emperor, if only to study the situation from up close, like she always did, waiting patiently until she found the crack so she could press on it and shatter the illusion.

She could do it. She needed to succeed in the new quest, and even if Zelda Spellman didn’t remember her - hence was unable to provide meaningful help - she would be helpful nonetheless, starting from the fact that she would be hiding her and Adam for the time being, and that, for now, was enough.

Adjusting the baby on her shoulder, she started to pace around the bed, and when she reached the window, she carefully moved the heavy drape, peeking outside: the sun was setting and an unpleasant darkness was starting to descend in the room.

Lilith wasn’t particularly fond of it.

She found comfort in dimly lit spaces, with a nice fire crackling somewhere, or candles scattered around, but she despised complete obscurity; maybe it was a residue of her long lost life in the Garden, where the nights were bright as the days and weren’t scary but quiet and sometimes she missed those days; maybe it was one of the too many memories of her time in the Wasteland, where nights were lonely and cold; or maybe it was because of Lucifer, who after transforming into the monstrous goat, and became one with darkness itself, he made her nights only of torment and agony and fear.  
In every shadow, Lilith saw him, in every black corner, she heard his breathing - and now she wasn’t only fearing for her own life and safeness, but for Adam’s as well.

The demoness sighed, struggling to keep her errands thoughts at bay and focus on the present.

She rubbed soothing circles on her son’s back when he uttered a discontent coo, and drew a corner of the outer blanket over his head, frowning deeply: for as odd as it seemed, she had to admit it was getting rather cold in there, and Lilith, who had never been cold a day in her life, was wondering if that too was a side effect of that insane reality.

Pacing toward the mantel, she locked her eyes on the dying embers, and blew on them, waiting for the fire to bloom out again, fierce and warm with a roaring blaze.

It didn’t happen.

The embers remained embers. The cold room stayed cold.

It unsettled her; it was frustrating and mildly scary to be _that_ helpless, and she wondered what trick they used to bound her powers like that, reducing her magic to the minimum.

Adam fussed, and Lilith felt as if he was projecting her frustration and fear onto him, and she felt guilty because she honestly didn’t know how to cope: it was a first, for her, to be close to powerless, and in a world so foreign to her. Would she be able to protect him at all? Would plotting and studying the situation be enough to go back and defeat the Emperor and his sickening reality?

She jerked when she heard the knock and the soft squeaks of the door's hinges being moved.  
Promptly shushing Adam when he protested even further, vaguely aware that any kind of noise wouldn’t be very appreciated, Lilith stared attentively at Zelda sliding inside the room, curly auburn hair bouncing first before everything else, quickly followed by their owner, carrying a single candle in her hand.

The demoness watched her coming in, her free hand cupped around it to protect the quivering flame with the same attentiveness with which she cherished Adam.

The amber glow reflected on her face, accentuating every detail of her sharp but also soft features, her green eyes almost completely black and dotted by the glimmer coming from the candle.

It was almost hypnotic, the flame, the light, Zelda.  
Lilith felt drawn to it like a moth but didn’t move a muscle.

«I thought you might need this more than me, with the baby and all.» Zelda whispered.  
She walked to the nightstand and poured some wax into a small bowl, then placed the candle in there, making sure it was secured before retracing her steps.

Lilith frowned, but decided not to inquire anything, though that sentence sure sounded weird: couldn’t she conjure more candles? Lit as many as she wanted? So her fears were true and Zelda Spellman not only forgot about her and Adam, but she forgot about being a witch as well. That was a disaster. She needed to come up with a solid plan or she would never be able to set herself free from that world and, in the end, Lucifer would get to them.

The Dark Lord really thought this through, because now she was truly alone, isolated from anyone who could offer a helping hand. But perhaps… Perhaps in order to save herself and Adam, her best chance was to restore Zelda Spellman’s memory and awareness and true nature, then the Coven’s, so that they, together, would be able to defeat Him.

She couldn’t use her magic, though, not at the moment. She needed to buy herself time and secure herself hospitality and shelter from the outside dangers.

She needed to earn Zelda Spellman’s trust. She needed to play the part of whatever wretched woman with a baby Zelda Spellman thought she was giving asylum to.

Lilith could do it.

After all, it was exactly what she was, at the moment - nothing more, nothing less.

«Thank you.» She mumbled, nodding her head in gratitude.

The witch drew in a heavy breath, and Lilith watched her as she wrung her fingers nervously.

«I hope you’re not hungry,» she mumbled tentatively, «because the food is rationed.» She added, giving her a guilty wince.

Lilith shook her head. Of course she wouldn’t know that the stranger she’d just let in a while ago didn’t really need to eat - nor her child, both eternal creatures for whom time flew differently - but it was kind of her to worry anyway. She had to admit, that version of Zelda Spellman was easier to deal with, much less irritating than the scoffing, presumptuous, despotic old self.

«No, I’m not hungry.» Lilith confirmed, giving a tight smile.

The witch nodded, heaving what sounded like a relieved sigh.

«Good. I’ll think about something tomorrow.» She assured her, but Lilith wasn’t sure she was actually talking to her rather than herself. «We’ll share the bathroom,» she said, gesturing the smaller door with her chin, «and my office is right there.» Zelda said, pointing vaguely toward the other door.

It had blurred glass panels and Lilith knew it well, but nodded anyway, watching the confused shapes of the said office. Then something persisted from one reality to the other: Zelda worked relentlessly way past the witching hours, nose buried into her paperwork. She had been a devoted teacher and adept for the Church of Night, an attentive High Priestess for her own Church, and again the High Priestess for the Order of Hecate. Among the three idols Zelda Spellman had devoted herself to, however, she had been the quickest she abandoned, never really worshipped with a true belief. And Lilith couldn’t deny it didn't sting a little. But then again, it was in the past: she had Adam to think about, and in due time, her son would provide her the throne; as for Zelda, she could continue to pray to her Goddess since she seemed to favor her so much. It didn’t matter as long as worshipping one or the other meant survival - she understood the position since she’d been through it herself countless times already: she couldn’t blame Zelda Spellman for doing that.

Whoever Zelda thought she was right now, in this reality, it didn’t change her nature, her untiring need of assuring a shelter and a promising future to those placed under her cares. Which now involved Lilith too.

«Knock, don’t mind waking me up if you need anything.» The dormant witch said, pulling her out of her confused stream of thoughts.

No, that wasn’t right. Lilith frowned, gaping at her: wasn’t she going to work, then, after all? Was she planning to spend the night in her office? It was wrong and odd, and frightening under a lot of circumstances. She thought she would start her inquisition in the morning, to gather as much information about that world with a clearer head, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask just that little thing.

«You’re not going home?» She wondered with a dismissive shrug, deciding not to mention the Mortuary, nor Hilda, nor Sabrina, lest ruining her own very fragile background story.  
Lilith had to think about one to tell in case Zelda started to make questions, which, in all honesty, was her right.

«At this hour?» The witch scoffed, clear disbelief written on her face. «It’s dark outside!» She said in the loudest whisper she could manage, her eyes wide as if she was simply stating the obvious.

Was Zelda Spellman afraid of the dark as well? It was absurd. There must’ve been something underneath.

«Listen,» the redhead sighed sharply, «it’s been a long day and you honestly don’t look very good.» Lilith straightened her back and tried her best not to glare at the remark. Yes, she was tired, yes it was odd, no she didn’t need someone who reminded her that. «Rest. I’ll be fine in my office, it wouldn’t be the first time I sleep in my chair.» She offered a sympathetic smile, to which Lilith only gave a single nod.

«Goodnight.» Zelda murmured, sliding out of the door with a subtle shake of her head.

«Goodnight.» Lilith mumbled back automatically, shushing Adam when he cooed as well.

Staring at the dividing door between them, the demoness frowned, sitting heavily on the edge of the bed.

It felt utterly wrong.

She’d claimed Zelda’s chambers when she knew the witch had already a place to stay and sleep, right now it felt like abusing the hospitality of a witch who thought herself… mortal? Something similar to that for sure.

Zelda Spellman was not exactly an enemy at that moment: claiming her bed wasn’t a naughty fun she’d taken pleasure in. Zelda Spellman had shown true compassion for a woman who didn’t know out of something that Lilith needed to find out.

It was part of the equation she needed to include in her plan, the plan that would awake the rest of the help she needed, starting indeed with Zelda Spellman. Yet, what if there were others like her? Others that remembered already? Others that didn’t need to be awoken? How would she find them if those, too, pretended to be asleep like herself to avoid conflict or, worse, be turned over to the sentinels and the Emperor?

She drew the covers and unwrapped Adam from the outer blanket, leaving him free to kick and stretch his little limbs. A genuine smile crept on her lips at the sight of her very lively son staring wide-eyed around the room, whining quietly when he gazed up at her, only to finally settled down. She rearranged the blue blanket around him and placed a hand on his little chest, feeling it rise and fall under her palm.

Lilith was close to powerless and the thought of being helpless turned her stomach. Even if Hecate wasn’t their Goddess in that reality, she hoped - she begged - for the Three-in-One to keep an eye on her and Adam, the first witch, whom life she’d spared as well as her son’s.

_Citizens of Greendale we are under threat level crimson tonight. Stay indoor. The Emperor and his army will assure your safety. Bolt your houses and have faith. Repeat - Stay indoor._

She listened carefully at the croaking voice of the radio coming from Zelda’s office. Lucifer not only had created the Tenth Circle but kept everyone in a firm grasp of fear, threatening with his monsters and horrors - the same ones she helped him birth through millennia. She knew that whichever reality created by Lucifer - the Emperor - would be bad, but this was even worse than she thought.

«Don't worry, little Adam. I will make things right.»

* * *

Rubbing her neck, Zelda let out a grunt. Sleeping in her chair office with her legs on the desk hadn’t quite been the most brilliant idea she had in a while. Well, as of late, she had been full of bright ideas, starting with taking Lilith and her baby in, which was precisely the reason why she had slept on her chair and currently was aching pretty much everywhere. But, truly, what was she supposed to do?

Well, she could’ve said _no_ and spare herself and her students the danger, yet how could’ve she lived with the guilt of knowing a desperate mother going errands with her baby, alone, in the dark, with all those peris lurking around each corner and, most of all, the Emperor sentinels patrolling the town? 

No, for as wrong and as dangerous it was, she’d done the right thing. It didn’t matter if the woman in question had found herself tied up in the Church - according to her story - because she had come to the School, sent by someone, asking specifically for her help and Zelda couldn’t deny it: she would’ve never forgiven herself knowing she had sentenced both Lilith and her baby to death by refusing them asylum.

And now they were her responsibilities, her secret to keep and to safeguard.

She startled when the bell rang, but she immediately sighed in relief when she realized it was midday and time for the students to eat during the brief recess. She would have a little while to relax and check on Lilith, see if she needed anything, make her stay less bothersome for either of them: few problems for her, meant few problems for everybody.

She quickly glanced at the board and expertly wrapped up the last bit of her lesson in a few sentences.  
It was both thrilling and scary teaching something that was explicitly forbidden to teach, and she was glad for her memory that let her teach her class without the need of a book for support, but also she hoped her students to have it too, since they couldn’t take notes, just pay attention, lest risking leaving proof of their illegal activities behind.

«Before going to lunch, let us recite the Pledge of Allegiance.» Zelda sighed heavily, like she did every day, each time with her stomach turned.

She hated it, she hated every bit of it, but she had to do it, because what if one of her students was stopped and asked to recite the pledge? It could happen any moment, anywhere - and she couldn’t pretend to lock everyone in the School seven days per week - and terrible things happened to those who weren’t primed. She vaguely remembered the awful _twacks_ of one of the sentinel’s whips on her calf the first time she refused and the second on her back when she mixed up two words. She wished nothing of the sort for any of them, so her students had to be prepared.

«I’ll lead, Madam Spellman.» Melvin proposed with a quivering voice.

None of the students liked it - she knew it, she could feel it - but she was grateful they seemed to understand she was doing this for their own good.

«Please, Melvin.»

The boy stood up on his feet and placed his fist on his chest. Quickly, all the others mirrored him and Zelda, reluctantly, did too, from behind her desk.

«We pledge allegiance to Faustus Blackwood, the supreme Emperor of Greendale.» He started to proclaim, and Zelda felt the urge to nod in his direction, encouraging him to keep going. It was nauseating. «We swear to render unconditional loyalty to him-»

«Obedience.» She corrected him. In her mind, the horrendous _twack_ of the whip on Melvin’s back. She shivered.

«We swear to render unconditional obedience to him, and to be ready at all times to sacrifice our lives for him. Praise Blackwood.»

What a load of bullshit. The things she had to endure in order to survive and to ensure survival for her students.

«Praise Blackwood.» She echoed, trying to sound convincing.

«Praise Blackwood.» The class joined in a sorrowful chorus and Zelda nodded.

«Good. If you’ll ever be asked to recite this, please be sure to remember your words and preferably with a proud voice and with a- smile.» She advised, proceeding with demonstrating, bending her mouth into a tight smirk. The class nodded, and she immediately removed that mask, her face going back to the usual haunting grimace, reflecting all the burdens that afflicted her, which didn’t seem to recede, but only grow in number. «Dismissed.»

Zelda let her gaze wander around the hall, making sure that each student had a plate and a water bottle and was eating or about to eat. Teachers were collecting their plates as well, and were gathering into their designated table in one corner, not bothering to control the noise but, as she told them, letting the children lash out a bit and be a little louder than needed - they deserved to be treated with the little things, since they were forced to live so strictly for the rest of the day.

Once she assured that everyone was settled, she took her own plate, the last remnant, and put it on a tray next to her half bun, a banana that is dangerously close to be declared unedible which had been wisely discarded by the other student and the water bottle.

Throwing one last glance around, she started to walk away, but she was able to make only a few steps before she was forced to freeze.

Marie was standing in her way, physically blocking the doorway that led to the adjacent hallway and, more specifically, after a maze of other corridors, to the headquarters.

«Going somewhere, _chérie_?» She asked, cocking her head, and then sunk pearly white teeth into an apple.

«Paperwork.» Zelda replied, maybe a little too hastily. She swallowed. «I’ll eat in my office.» She explained, trying her best to sound unbothered by the whole situation; even as the words were leaving her lips she knew she’d failed.

Zelda glanced down at her own tray, shifting uncomfortably. After all, it wasn’t a rare occasion for her to eat in her office during launch time, and she shouldn’t have felt uncomfortable, nor being anxious about it, but the secret she was hiding there did make her uncomfortable and anxious and, despite her best efforts, she felt her cheeks grow warm, heat spreading on her neck and down her chest, surely reddening her susceptible pale skin.

«Want me to keep you company?» Marie asked, and Zelda couldn’t really decide if her tone was mischievously alluring or simply diverted by her unusual reaction. Either way, it was inconvenient.

«No.» She spat, then heaved a breath and softened her voice. «Not, thank you, but I really need to work.» Zelda gave her a tight smile, very similar to the one she’d practiced and shown her students merely moments before.

Marie bobbed her head slowly in a submissive nod of understanding, and released the pressure by shifting to her side, clearing the passage for her.

«Fine.» She mumbled, lifting her hands into a gesture of mocking surrender; the bitten apple gracefully balanced between her fingers. «I’ll leave it to your work, then. See you after class?»

Zelda stared at her for a moment. There was a time where she found comfort in that bold personality of hers, and she felt guilty because it wasn’t the same anymore and it vexed her. Marie was sweet and caring but it was exhausting. As of late, their escapades only procured her more stress instead of relief and the distraction she once sought. She needed to talk to her and perhaps propose to go back to a professional relationship. All in due time.

Zelda nodded. She was already walking away when she agreed to that, with a hurried “sure!” that echoed through the narrow walls of the corridor as she absent-mindedly sped down to the tranquility of her office - that was, if she didn’t start thinking about her guest, of course.

Zelda felt guilty for lying so blatantly. It wasn’t a matter of trust, but keeping the secret with everyone was the only way to keep the rest of them safe. Because Lilith and her son were her responsibilities, but so were her students and the teachers and the staff that chose to stay at her School even in those horrible times. And the School came first, because it was there first.  
If things ever got ugly, she needed to be sure to be the only guilty one, keeping everyone out of danger for her reckless choices, Marie included.  
Because, professional relationship or not, she was the closest friend she had inside that School, the only one who truly believed in what they were doing and still had the energy to fight as long as the tiniest flame of hope would burn.

Zelda was grateful to have her among her ranks.  
Lying to her felt simply wrong. Yes, did she have another choice?  
Not really if she intended to keep Marie safe with the others, and the only way to do that was to keep her in the dark about the Lilith issue: it had been her choice, and hers alone.

Zelda wouldn’t have allowed it to be in any other way.

Balancing the tray on one hand, she knocked softly on the door - she really didn’t want a cracky baby crying bloody murder because she had been loud enough to wake him from a nap - and cracked it open, carefully peeking inside.

«Lilith?» She called hesitantly, her gaze wandering around the room.

The woman was pacing with the baby on her shoulder, and the soft humming noise she could’ve sworn hearing just an instant ago, immediately faded away. Lilith spun on her heels, throwing an alarmed glance at the door, blue eyes wide in a sudden panic.

«Zelda.» She breathed out then, closing her eyes for a moment when she realized there was no immediate danger threatening either her or the baby. The redhead could almost see the tension leaving her body. «Come in.»

«Sorry if I startled you.» Zelda apologized, sliding inside the room and closing the door on her back. «I brought you some food.»

She walked toward the bed and put the tray down. For a moment, she thought of proposing to move into her office and eat at her desk - pretending to have lunch at a real table - but then she decided against: for one thing, Lilith seemed already jumpy while locked into her chambers without suggesting her to move, and secondly, what if one of the students or the teachers would actually come to her office for whatever reason? It was too risky.

She sat on the edge of the bed, the tray slightly further away in the middle so it wouldn’t fall off, and threw an encouraging smile at Lilith. The brunette was gently rocking the baby, eyes locked on her, seemingly deep in thoughts.

«The food is rationed as I told you yesterday,» Zelda explained, «each of us is entitled to one plate at every meal, so I hope you don’t mind sharing?» She asked tentatively, grabbing the iron spoon and holding it up for her.

Zelda was surprised when she didn’t take it. She, who had the chance to dine the day prior, was definitely hungry, so it was impossible her guest wasn’t feeling hungry as well, especially after what she’d been through. And she just couldn’t believe Lilith was being picky, because those times didn’t really allow anyone to be picky, especially with something that wasn’t granted like food.

«You’re very… _thoughtful_.»

Zelda frowned at her, dropping the hand that was still gripping at the spoon. Why did she look so surprised? Did Lilith think she would have welcomed them into her School and then let them starve to death?

«It’s nothing.» The redhead shrugged, trying not to manifest her confusion. «Will you eat?»

To her increasing bewilderment, Lilith shook her head, thin lips stretched into a dismissive smile.

«I’m not hungry, Zelda.» She claimed. «But thank you.»

Zelda didn’t like to be fed lies - although she was doing that herself to dozens of people already - and that behavior was getting on her nerves. If Lilith was acting like that fearing she was intruding or imposing, well, it was simply stupid; Zelda knew pride, but that was unjustified.

It wasn’t her place to insist, but if she had to play the part of the Directrix with yet another misbehaving child throwing unnecessary tantrums, then she would.

«You haven’t eaten anything since yesterday.» She pointed out, lifting the spoon in her direction once again. «You need to put some food in your system, for him, at least.» She gestured toward the baby with her head, hoping to put some sense into her. They both needed to keep their energies, right? And since she’d come to her door begging for help only yesterday, she couldn’t possibly wish for death to take either her or her child. Eating was the first step to survival: it was that simple.

Zelda didn’t say anything when she saw Lilith finally giving up and leaning toward the tray. She didn’t take the spoon from her hand but went to grab the bun. Balancing her baby on her shoulder and holding with just one arm, she began to chew at the bread, with unnatural laziness for someone who hadn’t eaten anything in a long time.

Zelda chose not to dwell on that, because at least she was eating something. Perhaps later she could coax Lilith into eating a little bit of porridge too.

They remained in comfortable silence for a while, Lilith finishing the bun and Zelda picking at her porridge, minding to leave aside half of it, and her eyes unwillingly shot up, as if called by a siren, when the baby whined and cooed against his mother’s neck, making his presence known. She was almost sad that Lilith’s tutting worked immediately because that sound was a happy, welcomed change in comparison to all those gloomy lectures about even gloomier topics she had to hear all day, not to mention those eerie songs the chorus was forced to perform. At times like those, a baby was just what was needed to enlighten the spirit, and they were so precious - actually, when was the last time she saw one in the streets? -, she had all the rights to fear for his safety, no wonder Lilith was so attached to him. 

Or to better say, she had all the rights to fear for him _outside_ those walls, certainly not in her School, and not under her watch.

«Do you ever put him down?» Zelda asked, intended to make it sound like a bit of a tease. As a mother of a newborn in Greendale of all places, Lilith indeed was allowed to be clingy, but the absolutely outraged glare she threw back at Zelda, told her that it wasn’t a viable argument for jokes.

The way she brought her son even closer to her chest, made the redhead know that _no_ , she would never even phantom the idea of putting him down for a second.

Zelda smiled, silently asking for forgiveness if she had insulted her or offended her, because it was the last thing she intended to do. She waited for Lilith to soften her features, letting her know that it had been nothing but an honest mistake, a poor attempt to lighten up the mood, and patted the empty side of the bed, inviting her to sit down. She wanted to help, she really did.

Lilith just needed to feel out of harm’s way and Zelda swore to herself that, with time, she would provide her with everything she might’ve needed, starting with a protected place to stay with her son.

«You're safe here, I promise.»

She watched Lilith sitting down by her side, nodding, and then giving her a timid smile of gratitude.

It was a start. For now, it was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think: **I really need your support**! Make me happy! Thank you ♡


	3. Chapter III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We share meals. [...] We might as well share the bed too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

Chapter III

She’d blown the candle at the first cracks of dawn: knowing it was a precious thing, she didn’t want to waste any wax if not necessarily - it was already enough to waste food because she couldn’t come up with a good excuse to refuse it when others, like Zelda, really needed it instead. The candle proved itself to be very useful at night when Adam woke up upset about something, and she could only hypnotize him with the flame and some ancient litany she even forgot she knew; for as much as she struggled to remember, she didn’t know where she learned any of those melodies, nor when, and she’d stopped wondering about the reason why they were coming back now, blooming from some depths of her body and drumming their ways up into her throat, only to remain trapped behind her lips as she hummed to Adam.

As her son quieted down after having one of his fits, the old tunes blending with his confused coos, Lilith let her mind drift away. Now that they were relatively safe, she needed to prepare a plan to awake everyone, starting with the matriarch Zelda Spellman. That perverted version of the woman - the witch - she’d learned to know seemed to have been uncaged into a shell. A strong one, nonetheless, determined and combative, unafraid to disobey the rules when she thought there was something wrong in the system, but she was also unafraid of showing a kinder side of her to a stranger, devoting herself to an apparently lost cause because she thought it was right, no matter the danger or the consequences. That Zelda Spellman was the same one who brought her in and, willingly, split her food when there was barely enough to sustain herself.

Despite the rebellious nature, despite the fire Lilith knew was burning somewhere within her, as things were now, she was struggling to stay afloat, crushed under the unbearable weight of the responsibilities, of so many lives depending on her tiniest decision. Despite Lilith knowing the old Zelda Spellman was there - she had to believe she was - the woman’s spirit seemed to be broken.

First things first, she needed to find a way to rekindle her flame.

She’d just made up her mind about starting to gather information as soon as possible - perhaps the next time Zelda Spellman spared some time between classes to pay her visit to check on them - when Adam started to cry again, clockwork, after ten minutes in the last hour.

Rolling her eyes, Lilith forced herself to remain calm and rocked him, humming louder for him. It usually worked. It did back in the real world, all those days and nights he fussed for no apparent reason but to make his presence known, and it worked there too, for a while, but not today.

She shifted him on her shoulder, gently rubbing his back, but that hardly changed anything; if anything, he cried even louder. She winced when she felt him drool on her skin as he screamed bloody murder, but when she realized Adam wasn’t about to bite her any time soon - merely rubbing his reddened face on her neck - panic started to settle in.

Nobody was supposed to be aware of their presence, but she could hear the voices of some kids strolling around the Academy and it was impossible to think they couldn’t hear her son in return.

«Please, Adam.» She begged, incoherent images of Lucifer coming to get them, roused and led to them by his own son’s crying, suddenly crowding her mind, and her heart thumped faster. «This is not the time to act like the little devil you are.»

Still raptured in her own irrational fear, Lilith didn’t even register the dividing doors between her chambers and Zelda’s office abruptly being thrown open.

«For goodness’ sake, keep it down!» The redhead shouted behind clenched teeth, in the loudest whisper she could master. «Whatever is the matter?»

Lilith startled, spinning on her feet to face the source of the sudden noise. Swallowing, she automatically shushed Adam while she watched wide-eyed as Zelda closed the doors behind her back in hurry, probably to avoid spreading the incriminating noise any further inside the Academy halls.

The witch’s eyes were darting from her face to the screaming bundle secured in her hold, dangerous, frightened, perhaps regretting her decision to take in something so unpredictable to cope with like a baby in the first place.

Would Zelda Spellman throw them out now that she’d proven herself unable to keep her promise, now that she was threatening to become a danger for everyone? Would Lilith lose her protection, the last sparkle of hope to survive? How would she be able to provide safeness to her son? She blinked herself awake from the spiraling motion of her thoughts when Zelda instinctively joined her shushing attempts with her own voice, her face bearing the faint grimace of despair.

«I’m sorry,» The brunette apologized, doubling her efforts but to no avail. «He’s always a little fussy but never like this.» She assured, not certain she was only telling a white lie or a half-lie, because Adam had always been a hassle but probably only sounded louder now that he wasn’t allowed to make noises.

She watched Zelda rushing to the windows, carefully peeking outside, snorting in concern when she noticed the kids coming alarmingly close to the window.

Pacing up and down in front of the inactive mantle, Lilith found herself unable to avert her eyes from her.  
She’d gone to Zelda Spellman when she thought she was dying, knowing the redhead witch was the only one who could save her; she knew she could trust Zelda when she claimed they were ready to face the Dark Lord’s wrath in order to protect her and Adam. Zelda Spellman had helped her more than once, whether it had been forced to do so or offered her help spontaneously.

So when Lilith watched her, clutching her son merely one step away from wondering if she could actually suffocate those cries, she silently begged Zelda for help, once again.  
Unconsciously, or consciously, Lilith stared at her, because in the other reality she was an expert midwife, and because she also had raised Sabrina, who was a child of Satan herself.

Zelda gave a sharp sigh, her gaze still wondering outside, only occasionally peeking at her as her desperation grew.

«Have you fed him?» She finally asked, lifting both of her eyebrows, demanding to be answered, and quickly, if only to cross out any impossible option and move to the next plausible one.

Lilith stopped dead in her tracks.

«Fed him.» She echoed, almost transfixed.

«Yes. _Fed him_.» Zelda repeated, seemingly vexed because the other had halted her attempt to shush her son altogether.

Was it possible that whatever was infecting her magic was infecting Adam’s as well? Was that pang she’d felt in the morning something more physical like hunger rather than dread? Were they too being cursed with a sort of perverted humanity in that reality?

She considered the idea of Adam being hungry and, more importantly, she considered Zelda’s assumption to be correct.

«He never-» She flinched when she saw the woman roll her eyes and draw the thick curtain close with exasperation.

«If you hope to find bottles in an Art School, you’re poorly mistaken.» She spat, striding away from the window. She grabbed the handle and cracked the dividing door open, then threw one, final warning glare. «Calm him down, and quickly, before anyone comes down here and _this_ becomes a problem.»

Lilith watched her gesture around, pointing at nothing in particular and at everything at the same time, but of course, she knew the targets were herself and Adam.  
She exhaled a long sigh, eyes fluttering close when a particular high-pitched cry pierced her ear; if it wasn’t a desperate situation, she would’ve sworn her son was acting dramatic just to put her in trouble and test their good samaritan’s patience. Really, before attempting anything - even put down the vaguest draft of a plan - she had to succeed in something she’d never succeeded before: entering Zelda Spellman’s good graces.

Seeing no other solution if she didn’t want to be cast out and remain trapped in that reality forever - that was, if the Emperor wouldn’t have caught her as soon as she set foot outside those walls - she put Adam on the bed and sat beside him, fingers beginning to tinker with the buttons of her blouse.

She narrowed her eyes, glaring at the baby while he struggled in the constriction of his blanket.

«Don’t bite me or there’ll be consequences, young man.» She warned, although a diverted smile, that tethered on the line of fondness, crept on her lips.

* * *

It had been the third day she spent the night in her office and her whole body was killing her. First, she tried the chair, then she tried pillowing her head on the desk, and then she curled up on the chaise longue in the corner; each of those positions offered relief for one part of her body, but it was just excruciating on another: if it wasn’t her legs to hurt, then it was her neck, or back, or some other bone or muscles she didn’t even know she had.  
In Lilith’s defense, she’d offered to switch places for a few nights, claiming that she was fine - and she did look fine, rested, despite having a small child to take care of - but Zelda didn’t like the idea of having her in the office, unprotected and unsupervised, because she would’ve been exposed: if one of the students had a problem - life-threatening or not - they had the nasty habit to barge in without pleasantries, especially at night, and if that was to happen it would’ve been a disaster.

The truth was that Zelda missed her bed at home, she missed closing her office in the evening and leave everything in the guardians’ hands while she drove to the manor; she missed dining with her sister and their nephew, she even missed him ranting, philosophizing about this or that argument; she missed the old days when Greendale was a safe place to raise children, and not that horrible town constantly under siege, especially when, of late, she’d been wondering if their jailers were indeed witches or the Emperor and his troops - after all, did anyone really see a witch hurt anyone? The only violence she’d encountered was the iron fist of the Emperor himself. How could people remain blind?

Well, not everyone was like that, if she had to be honest, and that was the only thing that gave her hope. Because people were starting to question the Emperor’s way, they were starting to rebel - little things, still, because the peril was there - and Zelda couldn’t be more proud to state that she was among those. Beyond the façade of a decaying Art School, branded as a den of traitors but without any tangible proof, her children learned illegal notions. Inside those walls, they sang his hymns when the soldiers were patrolling around the building, and studied unauthorized poetries when they left; between classes about the History of Greendale, where they learned about all the Emperor’s work of righteousness when he eradicated evil from those lands, they painted and created and expressed themselves, only to weep when they threw everything in the fire to erase the testimony of their dissent - and warm themselves, at night, in the dormitory.

Zelda had to believe that, with time, things would change. That those few people who rebelled and feigned loyalty during the day and held meetings in the darkness, could grow in number and conviction and that, in the end, they would be able to strike back and reconquer their freedom.

And then, she missed the seasons of her youth with her sister, when life was simple and happy, and when she felt particularly overwhelmed by the happenings of the day, knowing those times were gone forever, she missed her home terribly. She missed her family more than anything, but they had to break apart for safety reasons, the most important one being keeping Ambrose as far as possible from the threat.

Hilda and she had discussed for a long time, then decided that their nephew should’ve stayed home, continue his study and try to fit in as much as possible. As for Hilda and herself, they both devoted themselves to their jobs - one protecting the children within the walls of the Academy, the other giving shelter to those who rebelled in the back of her husband’s diner, in secret.

There had been a time when they could phone to check on each other, but it wasn’t safe anymore, so Zelda went home whenever she could.

In a matter of months, however, her homecoming didn’t bring the coveted relief of yore: Ambrose only talked about the Emperor, about his brutal ways, about his friends disappearing and nobody doing anything to stop it and Zelda felt helpless, watching him spiraling away in his paranoia.

And then, when Hilda didn’t come home for a whole month, they both began to worry. They quenched their dread only when Ambrose went to the store and she informed him that, finally, more people were gathering there: she needed to stay and supervise, they assembled, discussed, even made up a secret word to recruit others who were afraid to come out to give all a secure place to feel less lonely.

It was risky, and often Zelda wondered if Hilda was okay, whether she was still alive, since anything could’ve happened.

Some days were more difficult than others. Today was one of the difficult ones.

Tears started to prick at her eyes, and she stubbornly tried to push the thought back, though a few drops escaped her lashes. She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand and sniffled, instantly regretting the decision when she unwillingly pushed some dust into her eyes, and that made tear-up even more.

She needed to stay strong: if those fanatics were ready to die for their Emperor, it meant that each and every one of them had to be ready to die too, for the opposite cause, no matter how painful and hard it was. And as she kept telling her students, she would rather die than live in a world where there was no Art nor freedom.

That was, of course, a speech she would gladly put to reality herself, but when she thought about one of her students sacrificing, her stomach twisted at the idea: as their educator, as their tutor, her job was to keep them safe.  
Until she was absolutely sure they could win the battle against their oppressor, she had to do everything in her power to keep them out of harm. That included teaching them horrible notions for their own sake, but also keeping them unaware of the dangerous guest residing in her office, which involved, consequently, providing for Lilith’s needs as well.

It was a lot to handle, but that didn’t give her the right to yell after she had accepted to take her in, well aware of the unpredictability and danger of having a small child within those walls.

Zelda felt guilty for lashing out at her, which was the reason why she was trudging between piles of old and dusty stuff hidden in the remotest deposits in the basement, at the moment.

Because the baby’s crying might’ve been the last straw to make her snap, but as soon as she closed the doors on her back, she realized she’d snapped at a baby who was simply acting like a baby. She couldn’t blame him, and neither could she blame it on Lilith for trying her best: regardless of the circumstances, she imagined that being a new mother was overwhelming, and on top of that, Lilith was a fugitive, so the fear of dying or watch her son die was more than alive within her, and understandably so.

Zelda couldn’t help but wonder how long she’d been a mother. That brown blanket in which her son was swaddled up surely was deceiving: whenever a hand poked from the folds, it definitely looked tiny. He couldn’t be more than a month old, that was sure, but maybe not even a few weeks. And she was alone with her son. Lilith perhaps needed more help than she realized herself.

The lost look she gave her only a few hours prior was haunting her now because it simply hadn’t been fair on her behalf to just yell at her without offering any sympathy, it wasn’t fair to make assumptions nor think so ill of another desperate soul - because Lilith was nothing but that: another desperate soul struggling to keep her head above water.

She sighed loudly, only partly rejoicing when she finally found the object of her quest. Coughing when she removed the plastic cover and a cloud of dust engulfed her, she pulled out the wooden basin and used it as a shield when other discarded objects rained on her with a thunderous fall. She let out a stream of curses and inspected the object in her arms, brow pinched in concentration as she studied its usability.

She kept observing even when her mind drifted away from the creases and the splinters on the uneven, but perfectly clean surface, especially when the odd realization floated, for a moment, in her head: wandering in the basement had been reckless, to say the least, and yet she ventured there on her own anyway. Why? Because even if it sounded absurd, not only she wanted to provide everything she needed, she also wanted to provide her with everything that might make her stay more comfortable.

After the harsh and uncalled things she said, she felt the urge to make it up to her: Lilith and her babe weren’t simply a responsibility that had rained on her and landed on her porch, they were her responsibility because Zelda felt the odd longing to _want_ them as her responsibility; another one, another she shouldn’t have desired, another liability similar to the one she already had, but different at the same time.

Maybe she was just being selfish and she longed for the idea of having a baby around to brighten the otherwise gloomy days of her life.  
But no, if she searched herself, she knew that this wasn’t it. Perhaps it was because the babe was that, a babe, innocent one whose fault had simply been born in the wrong place at the wrong time - she couldn’t wrap her head around it - but it felt more important. Somehow, Zelda felt inevitably drawn to them.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she sighed when she noticed she couldn’t manage without the candle because it was past sunset already, and made her way out of the basement.

Trying her best to balance the basin on her hip, Zelda retraced her steps back into the maze of corridors that led to the headquarters, where her office - and Lilith - was. She was mildly regretting refusing both Nicholas Scratch and Marie’s offering to help, but really, what was she supposed to do? On the way to her office, if not a student, another professor would surely ask what she needed an old crafting project there for - especially if that professor in question was Marie - and she couldn’t have that.

She stopped in the laundry room, moving among steaming piles of freshly washed linens, pillowcases, and blankets careful not to make eye contact with the staff - who luckily didn’t pay much attention to her as they got ready to withdraw in their own quarters for the night - and grabbed one of each from the pile, releasing the breath she was holding only when she was sure she was out of the place and she’d successfully smuggled out everything she needed.

When she entered her chambers, Lilith had just finished feeding her son.

The woman was giving her back to the door, hair down and gathered over one shoulder, her blouse only on the left side pooled at her waist. Too busy humming one of those lullabies that had soothed her to sleep during those long nights - now Zelda had the proof she hadn’t imagined - Lilith hadn’t yet realized she had company.

Zelda knew she should’ve waited to be granted the permission to open the door after knocking, but the basin - loaded with the other stolen objects - was slipping out of her arms and she didn’t want to drop it in case the baby would startle with the loud noise.

Zelda knew she should’ve made her presence known, but she stood there, suddenly mesmerized by the angelic face of the baby perched on his mother’s bare shoulder as he stirred, pursed mouth white with milk.  
He certainly was tiny, but it was a good thing because he would fit perfectly, and a strange tingle of pride bloomed at the pit of her stomach at the idea of his small screeches of delight if he, indeed, liked what she’d brought for him. That was, of course, if his mother would allow it.

Zelda knew she should’ve felt embarrassed to have intruded into such a private moment, but she just wasn’t.  
Her heart was thumping faster not because she was feeling out of place, but because the sight had warmed it.

Nonetheless, as soon as Lilith peeked from above her shoulder and caught a glimpse of the blue eyes with her own - was that a smirk forming on her lips? - Zelda cleared her throat and rushed to close the door behind her, hurriedly presenting her apologies.

«I’m really sorry.» She mumbled, rather feeling blessed than guilty because she wasn’t being cast out yet, though she probably deserved it.

«You’ve seen worse of me than my bare shoulder.» Lilith commented as she buttoned up the blouse, still giving her back.

Zelda frowned, not really getting the meaning of that reply, but then she thought that Lilith considered begging for help a far more vulnerable bit to show than mere physical exposure, one that, among other things, was a natural necessity too. She considered that, after all, Lilith was right.

«I didn’t mean to snap at you, this morning.» Zelda mumbled, patiently waiting for the other woman to make herself presentable before stepping closer. «It’s just… a lot. Too many things to manage and I don’t like to lose control.»

«I understand.» Lilith nodded, swaying in place as she gently patted on the baby’s back. «What’s that?»

Zelda followed her glance and laid her own eyes on the basin she was carrying, wondering how it was possible to almost have forgotten about it. She blinked in confusion and placed it on the bed to show her.

«It was an Art project from before- well, before all this mess.» She explained, pride for the student who carved the log - Melvin, perhaps - mixing with the melancholia at the awareness that those times were long gone. «I thought it might be useful.» The project was meant to finalize the inlaying on woods and that basin was only half-way done, but as soon as Zelda placed with her free hand the crumpled blanket to create a soft padding, the linen around the hard edges and the pillowcase on top, the new application quickly became apparent.

She threw a hesitant glance at Lilith, but the woman remained silent.

Zelda nodded with a tight smile, then went over the nightstand to lit up the candle with her own.

«Well, I should leave you to it.» She mumbled, a little disappointed. But then again, she supposed forgiveness wasn’t easy to grant - she was the first to hold grudges for the littlest things - and they surely weren’t friends. Yes, she let them in, but Lilith was right to become suspicious and keep her walls up if only for her son’s welfare, she needed to be twice as cautious. There would be time to prove Lilith she really intended to provide them with a shelter and, on top of that, a nice place to stay - if not a home, something similar to one. «Goodnight, Lilith.»

She’d barely gripped the door handle when the woman’s voice made her stop.

«Wait,» Lilith blurted out, «you can’t keep spending the nights in your office.»

Zelda looked at her, frowning, before she could even control her body, she’d shrug.  
«It’s fine.» She lied, hoping her tensed smile would be convincing enough.

She watched her Lilith approach the improvised bassinet and the phantom of a smirk curving her lips.

«He has his own cot now, the bed is big enough for the two of us.» She pointed out.

Zelda suddenly felt at a loss of words, which was a rare occasion. It had been a long day, everything in her body hurt and she was in terrible need to lie down, but still, it felt like imposing.

She was about to shake her head and leave, yet soon enough, she found herself unable to move when Lilith leaned down and placed the baby inside the bassinet, in which he fitted precisely, just like she’d thought; Zelda smiled at that small accomplishment.

«We share meals.» Lilith went on, without even looking in her direction, too busy securing one of the too-many blankets around the small form of her son. «We might as well share the bed too.»

She looked, this time, and Zelda found herself staring into two pools of bright blue, feeling incredibly exposed under that gaze. The woman wasn’t doing anything much but looking at her, and yet the redhead felt uneasy, almost unable to refuse such an alluring offer, especially when a strange exertion was washing over her.

«I suppose we could.» The redhead succumbed, blowing on the candle between her hands.

She barely registered Lilith collecting the cot to place it on the floor by her side of the bed, and she shed her jacket, stepping off her heels before crawling on the mattress with her clothes on. She perched herself on the side, giving her back to Lilith, eyes fluttering close by their own volition. If she were to believe witches were truly among them, then she would also say she was under some sort of sleeping spell.

With the shadow of a smile curving her lips because she was finally able to rest properly, she bid her slurred goodnight.  
Before she knew it, she fell into a dreamless slumber, and couldn’t hear Lilith bid hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think: **I really need your support!** Make me happy! Thank you ♡


	4. Chapter IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I promise I’ll keep you both safe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

Chapter IV 

For hours, Lilith laid on her back, eyes studying the ceiling above her head.  
Despite the rhythmic breathing coming from the dormant woman, which would have certainly lulled her to sleep on any other occasion, she wasn’t feeling tired. At first, she’d rolled on her side but the sight of Zelda’s back made her feel unusually upset for some obscure reason she couldn’t discern, and yet she stubbornly stood like that, frowning as she searched herself, wondering if it was just her presence - the old enemy that became her ally - or because, in that perverted reality, Zelda had uncovered a different shade of her personality that made her more approachable.

Lilith wasn’t used to be treated as equal, especially by Zelda Spellman, and even though she wasn’t considered an equal in strength but in misery - both struggling to survive in that world that threatened to crush them down any moment and in the most vicious of ways - solidarity, of any sort, wasn’t something she could say to have already experienced in her long, endless life. It was a peculiar feeling.

Sighing, she rolled over at the first whines coming from her son’s cot, making sure to calm him down before he would erupt into one of his fits in the middle of the night. The demoness frowned when she vaguely realized that she’d spurred into action right away to prevent Zelda from waking up and interrupting her needed rest, convincing herself that it was simply because her son needed her and she couldn’t bear his distress.

Lilith scooted back in the bed and propped her back on the headboard, a hand dangling in the improvised cot, absent-mindedly stroking Adam’s tummy as he, too, snoozed.

Her quiet humming was interrupted when she heard the mattress squeak, her gaze drifted from her son’s face to the other occupant of the bed and, holding her breath, she watched the red-haired witch unconsciously roll over in her sleep.

There was something soothing about Zelda’s face, and the demoness quickly found herself staring at her, almost mesmerized.  
She’d never seen the woman so quiet before, never seen her so relaxed.

She’d seen her sleep once already, but her features were contorted, victim of one of Batibat’s nightmares; now, on the contrary, Zelda seemed peaceful, as if in the dreamland she could really escape that harsh reality she lived in.

Releasing her breath, she bent over the cot and retrieved Adam. Leaning back on the headboard to feed him, she found herself absentmindedly mirroring the rhythmic heaving and dropping of Zelda’s chest; she considered the idea of resuming her lullaby and quenched even Adam’s little coos, but then, was it safe if she didn't know if Zelda Spellman was still soundly sleeping? It wouldn't surprise her to find out that her former High Priestess was a light sleeper, and if that was the case, would Zelda wake up and stare questioningly up at her, complaining about being disturbed in the middle of the night when she clearly needed rest?

Lilith had just drawn a long intake of air when she noticed that the peaceful expression on Zelda’s face, however, had shifted. Just like with Batibat, her smile had turned into a grimace; her forehead, once relaxed and smooth, had gotten wrinkled; her eyeballs, underneath the taut skin of her lids, were twitching relentlessly.

The brunette watched, biting the inside of her cheek when she saw Zelda’s whole body grow tense, then her mouth fell open into a silent cry. She panted once, twice, then swallowed, her face scrunching up, then tossed her head to the side.

«Zelda?» The demoness whispered, her voice perfectly balanced between a firm calling and soft tut, to the point when she wondered whether she was indeed trying to soothe the grownup witch at her side or the small child latched to her breast.

Deaf to her voice, however, the woman tossed around some more, and the demoness frowned when she noticed the sheen of sweat glistening on her brow.

«Zelda, wake up.» She called, a little louder this time, trying not to startle either her son or the sleeping witch in the throes of what looked like an unsettling nightmare. « _Zelda_!»

The red-haired witch snapped her eyes open immediately. Still trapped in a limbo where her mind couldn’t discern the dream from reality, her body reacted violently, arms flaring in self-protection against the closest thing alive and potentially dangerous which, at that moment, was Lilith.

Quick and efficient like a striking snake, the demoness grabbed Zelda’s wrist just in time before Zelda could smack either her or Adam.

«It’s alright.» Lilith glared, failing at her attempt to speak softly.

The witch blinked, breath labored, and Lilith searched her wide, frightened eyes for any sign of refound rationality.

Zelda, however, stared right back at her, and her first instinct was to try squirming away; the demoness held her tighter, knowing that if she was to let go, the woman would’ve likely fallen off the edge of the bed.

And yet, when she saw the sparkle of fear flashing in the green of her eyes, Lilith immediately loosened her grip, and rather than stopping her or preventing her from falling and hurting herself, she tried to offer some anchoring hold.  
Lilith recognized that fear, even if it belonged to the past, she remembered the sensation of a restraining, cruel hand wrapping her own wrists.  
Lilith knew she’d awoken some memories, awful ones, in Zelda’s head, because she’d awoken the same ones inside her own.  
Lilith knew, she remembered, she understood - but chose not to mention it.

«I’m sorry.» Zelda closed her eyes, forced herself to breathe deeper, and only when Lilith was sure she was calmer, she let her go.

Immediately, the witch sat down on her haunches, covered her face behind her hands, and breathed hard against them, apologies and pants cascading from her lips, voice muffled against her quivering palms.

«It’s alright.» Lilith repeated, unconsciously running her knuckles across the chubby face of her son, who was still eating, completely unbothered by the whole situation, unlike the other two women. The demoness couldn’t avert her gaze from the witch’s shaky figure.

«Did I wake you up?» She asked, wiping away the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.

The brunette shook her head, readjusting Adam to her breast simply to prove her point, and it was then that the redhead sighed, and purposely turned her head to stare at the flame of the dying candle.

Lilith let out a scoff, barely hearable: frankly, it was getting mildly irritating, especially when Zelda Spellman never struck her as a prude person, actually, quite the contrary.

«What were you dreaming about?» She asked then, her voice detached and blank, not betraying the sudden curiosity that was blooming inside her chest.

Zelda cleared her throat, then gave her a breathy chuckle.

«I- it’s nothing.» She dismissed with a shrug.

«You’re agitated.» The other woman stated, matter-of-factly. «You won’t fall asleep right away and he will still take a while,» she informed, gesturing toward her son with her chin; she smiled when he looked up at her for a moment with big, bleary eyes as he suckled with intent. Lilith kept smiling, then peeked at the witch through the corner of her eye, «so, if you want to talk-»

«I couldn’t remember the words.» Zelda blurted out with a sorrowful snarl. She shook her head again, shrugged again, gave another breathy chuckle while she rubbed at her forehead, roughly, with her fingertips. «It’s silly.»

Lilith drew in a long breath. She looked at the woman and bit hard on her lip: perhaps this could be the occasion to ask and find out more about a detail of that reality without sounding too much of a pry - after all, it could’ve been one way like another to offer sympathy and start a conversation.

«What words?» She inquired.

Zelda frowned, throwing a confused glance back at her.

«The creed.» She answered as it was the most obvious thing in the world. «The creed everyone has to know by heart and recite upon command.»

Lilith hardly contained a disbelieving laugh of despair. The Dark Lord wasn’t only getting greedy, He was getting incredibly petty as well - for goodness sake, there was a damn _creed_! Wasn’t Hell enough? She already knew the answer, of course, because it never had been, but this mania for ruling and being glorified like an actual god was getting out of hand. He already had thousands of demons praising him and nine circles of souls begging for his mercy, what a handful of mortals and meek witches who didn’t know they had powers could do to make the difference? But then again, was it just Greendale or the whole world? That perversion of reality couldn't have infected the Earth completely in a matter of seconds... could it?

«Well, it was just a dream.» Lilith offered with a grimace, noting that she’d been silent for far too long, deep in her thoughts. «I’m sure you know the words by heart.»

Zelda gave her an ironic smile.

«I do now.» She confirmed. The demoness noticed the little, unintentional twitch of her shoulders, as if her body was remembering something, but decided not to mention that either. «I fear for my students, and my family.» The red-haired witch confessed, sighing loudly.

Lilith could feel the exertion descending upon her shoulder again. Not only she was tired from the day - or days, to be exact - but she had a lot of sleep deprivation to catch up. Of course, the nightmares didn’t help, barely let her rest in the first place.

She shifted Adam and brought him on her shoulder, rubbing and patting gently his back when he squirmed and gurgled. Her eyes never left Zelda as she glanced around the room, apparently clueless about what to do exactly with herself.

«Try to go back to sleep.» The demoness suggested, tilting her head toward the wrinkled pillow.

Zelda looked at it, studying it for a moment before her shoulder slumped under the weight of an invisible burden. She blinked heavily at her and crawled to it, but resisted before letting her body fall down.

«What about you?»

Lilith gave her a smile.

«I’ll stay up some more.» She informed with a little nod, trying to appear confident enough to sound reassuring. «Until he’s asleep.» She specified.

Zelda nodded tiredly, seemingly convinced, then laid down.

Lilith’s gaze followed the witch crawl under the sheets, curling up on herself and giving her back.

It would be a long night.

She held Adam tighter to her chest, drew a small breath, and resumed her soft singing, hoping it could not only soothe her son. After all, it was a little thing compared with everything that Zelda Spellman was doing for her.

* * *

Zelda woke up to the dim light of a tired sun seeping through the blinders. Blinking away the slumber from her eyes, she sighed loudly as the memories of the previous night flooded back into her head.

For good measure, she recited the creed, lips moving silently as she repeated the words in her mind, warding off the _thwacks_ that echoed in her ears from the nightmares, the screams of her students when they begged the Emperor’s soldier to stop whipping her. She remembered waking up, Lilith’s surprising calmness radiating from her body and entering hers as if it was something alive, vibrating into the air, unseen, working like a balm on her upset spirit. And then, she remembered laying down again, being lulled to sleep with an old litany, the woman’s voice soothing her like she was soothing her son.

Zelda bit on the inside of her cheek, unsure about what to think, exactly, of the whole situation: she was sharing the bed with the mysterious woman who panicked for the slightest of sound, the same that, however, had managed to be the one to comfort her, in return, in a moment of need. She wanted to offer shelter to Lilith and her babe, but instead, it had been Lilith to offer it, and Zelda took it gladly, even if she typically never accepted anything from anyone, not even Marie.  
What was happening? She was really that exhausted? Surely a nightmare couldn’t cause such distress to turn over her whole personality over a night.

Zelda was feeling confused.

Looking from above her shoulder, she took in Lilith: slouching on the pillow and headboard, neck bent into an awkward position, the brunette was sleeping soundly, unbothered by the sunbeams lapping her face.

Careful not to wake her, she rolled on the edge of the bed, sitting up and fighting the dizziness that, for a moment, engulfed her whole body.  
She really needed to secure the Academy something more nourishing than the scarce supplies of oatmeal and vegetables.

Curling her toes inside her slippers, she mentally recalled what would’ve been the duties of the day: only half-day of lessons - history and geometry for her, then the students would move to choir practice -, then she was supposed to organize next week’s programs, update the report cards, and-

She tensed when she heard the gurgles coming from the hidden spot on the other side of the bed.

Zelda chewed nervously on her bottom lip and eyed Lilith expectantly, waiting for her to stir and wake up to answer her son’s soft callings; she waited a couple of seconds, then wondered how long the woman had stayed up, the previous night, watching over the child, or herself, or _both_ \- she wasn’t sure.

Standing up, she quickly circled the bed and bent down to inspect the cot.

A genuine smile bloomed on her lips as she watched the baby blinking, wide awake, small limbs loose from the constriction of the blankets flaring messily in the air, toothless mouth open in what she was sure would’ve erupted into a piercing cry.

Seemingly captivated by the few locks that reached his hands, he stilled for a moment, then continued in preparation for a fit when Zelda instinctively pushed them back behind her ears, not at all thrilled at the idea of having her hair pulled.

«It’s alright.» She shushed, but quickly realized it was no use.

She threw one last glance over and sighed when she noticed that Lilith didn’t do much but shifting more comfortably under the sheets.

«Come here little one,» She cooed softly, surrendering to the adorable pout curving the newborn’s rosy lips, and slowly reached out with careful hands, «let your mother rest.»

Peeling completely the blankets off of him, she scooped him up, shushing him with soft nonsense when he stirred and protested some more.

When she brought him flush to her shoulder, however, she felt a pang in her heart. She took in the weight of the infant - so light and small she wondered if she was actually holding a living creature or a doll - and immediately started to pace up and down the room to soothe him. Zelda hardly contained a sniffle when his eyes fluttered close, small hands closed into tight fists against her blouse. He couldn’t possibly be accustomed to her smell - which she knew was the primary sense for newborns to discern things and people - but despite being a total stranger to the child, her heart ached when the baby instinctively curled up against her chest, completely trustful and cozy within her arms.

Zelda was happy with the choices she’d made in her life, but there was an omnipresent shadow that nothing could ever cast away for good, not even time - if anything, time made it worse.  
Of course, she had Ambrose and dozens of people who relied on her, an equal number of students who looked up to her and yearned for her teachings and advice. Yet, Zelda was simply an aunt to a boy who came into her custody already grown, and a tutor to those kids, their mentor, the shoulder to cry on when they were scared: that didn’t make her a mother to any of them. Motherhood was destined to remain a sleeping longing in a locked safe buried deep within her heart.

When she was young, she dreamed of finding a sweetheart and getting married just to have children right off, but the occasion never really occurred: firstly, she devoted to her studies, and when she became of age, she waited for the boys to make the first moves, but when they did, the thrill of love never came; then she grew up and the responsibilities came along, with her new job as headmaster of a prestigious Art School, and Ambrose to take care of after his parents were brutally murdered - as she’d been told - by witches. She loved her darling nephew dearly, but sometimes she thought he and her job robbed her of the possibilities of fulfilling her deepest desires.

She didn’t regret her choices, but there would always be something amiss in the equation: a child of her own remained a longing she would never subside.  
And it hurt to think that this could be the closest she got to hold a baby.

She cradled his fragile skull in her hand, a strange tingle at the pitch of her stomach when she noticed it fit perfectly in her palm, and bowed her head down, placing her lips on the crown of his head, fuzzy dark hair tickling the tip of her nose. There was something incredibly soothing about his scent, and for the first time in months - years, maybe, more likely - it was peaceful inside her head, as if the infant could make her see the world in a different, brighter shade, as if there was still hope, out there, not only for survivance and freedom but for a blithe future too.

«Give him back.»

Zelda spun on her heels when she heard the quivering voice coming from her behind her.  
She was a few feet from the bed and, for a moment, she imagined Lilith launching herself toward her to snatch the baby out of her arms, instead, the brunette stood frozen there on the mattress, blue eyes wide and scared as if she thought any hazardous movement from her part could mean harm to her son.

« _Please_.»

The red-haired woman felt guilt wash over her like a wave. She gave her a sharp nod and hurried back to where the brunette was.

She wondered if Lilith had ever let anyone hold her child since his birth, but the clear panic she could read on her face told her that very few people - if none - had been allowed to stay near the baby.

«He’s fine.» Zelda assured. «He kicked his blanket off and he was getting fussy. I thought he might be cold, and-» She swallowed uneasily letting the sentence hang, then carefully maneuvered the baby into the brunette’s arms. The way Lilith clutched the infant made her guilt only greater. «Forgive me, I should’ve warned you. I thought you might need some rest and-» her breath hitched, «forgive me.»

The redhead crossed her arms on her chest defensively, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She felt under trial when Lilith threw her a suspicious glare, then narrowed her eyes inquisitively, lips softly pursed as she shushed her son.

Drawing a long sigh, Zelda approached the bed, and sat heavily on the mattress in the empty spots left by Lilith’s legs - she’d collected them to rest her son there to better study his well being - and when she was greeted with another glare, the redhead raised her hands in surrender, to prove again that, no, she indented no harm to either one of them.

«Thank you for last night.» She mumbled, teeth pricking at her bottom lip.

«It was nothing.» Lilith replied drily, not even lifting her gaze.

Zelda sighed. Glancing at the tickling mantle clock, she noted it was way too early to start the day, which gave her some time to actually discuss the terms of that cohabitation: when she mentioned the creed, Lilith seemed totally clueless, and if she didn’t know the creed, there were also scarce probabilities she knew how actually things worked and were, out there.

She knew Lilith was a fugitive, that they were after her, but protecting either she or her baby would be much more complicated if she didn’t know the basics about how to actually survive in Greendale. Perhaps Lilith was only another student on that matter, one she had to teach how to better fool the authorities in the case she’d found herself in some unpleasant situation.

She needed to know her better, make her feel comfortable and safe just like the woman did only a few hours prior. It shouldn’t have been hard.

«He's fine, isn't he?» She inquired, stretching her neck and looking at the little balled hands poking from either side of her legs to avoid the glare she was sure the brunette was throwing her, probably still unsure whether to trust her around her son or not.

«So it appears.» The other woman noted, and the redhead could hear the sharp breath she released.

She nodded, suddenly relieved when Lilith appeared calmer. Getting her trust was the only thing she sought and Zelda couldn’t believe that one little bad decision could really jeopardize a pacific allegiance - there was time to build a friendship, perhaps, for now, a trustful coexistence was enough: having Lilith and the babe in her chambers gave Zelda a strange feeling of reassurance, she only hoped she could reciprocate, someway.

«You know, we share the same meals and sleep in the same bed but I still don’t know your son’s name.» She offered the hint of a smile when, finally, Lilith lifted her gaze without anger; she just seemed… intrigued? It was hard to read.

«Adam.» She said. A pause, a breath, a soft gurgle from the baby. «Thank you for the cot.» Lilith mumbled. «And for soothing him.»

Zelda knew how difficult it had been to pronounce those words since she was the first hating depending on others, she hated feeling helpless and feeling scared all the time. And even if she didn’t know what it was like to have a child of her own in constant danger, she could imagine that turning defensive was the most natural thing one could do. She would not blame Lilith - if she needed time and proof of trust, she would provide both.

She nodded and, bending over toward the cot, she retrieved the blue blanket from it, neatly folding it into her lap just to busy her hands with something.  
It was then that she noted the embroidery on one of the corners, a pattern that she was sure was part of one of the many manifestations and symbols that Blackwood banned.

«How peculiar.» The woman commented, her voice barely above a whisper, the fingertips ghosting over the replica of what looked like a triple moon - two halves at either side of a full circle. It was impossible, but it felt like it wasn’t the first time she saw that symbol. It felt incredibly familiar and yet… it was not. «What is it?»

They stared at each other for a long moment before Zelda handed the blanket over for Lilith to take it with a hesitant grasp.  
She could almost see the cogs working under the wild mass of dark hair as she dwelled on the possibilities to reveal what looked like an important detail of her mysterious life before her imprisonment.

«It’s a token.» The brunette said with a quivering voice, clearing her throat. Then lowered her gaze to carefully swaddle her son; she smoothed the creases and wrapped him up efficiently in a way that the symbol was now resting square on his rounded tummy. «For protection.» She added. Zelda watched her chewing on her lip, eyes lost somewhere distant from the present. «It was given to me.»

Zelda hardly restrained to ask from whom did she get the blanket, because if Lilith wanted to share that potentially compromising information, she had to do it by her own decision. And yet, that half-explanation, prompted Zelda’s mind to wander: that it was an illicit symbol - or token, as she more properly defined - was established, but not only it was illicit, it almost looked- no, it couldn’t be true. If that was something related to witches, that made Lilith a witch or someone who sympathized with them, which could explain a lot about her imprisonment and her mysterious background story - and yet, it couldn’t explain other things.

Despite believing witches weren’t really capable of cruel deeds, there was a part of Zelda that believed in their incapability to love. After all, they devoted themselves to a superior being of hate, their hearts withered in their chest. On the contrary, Lilith loved her son unconditionally, so much in fact that it was radiating from her. It was impossible to even think otherwise. Hence, assuming that the statements about witches were true - the ones regarding human emotions and sentiments at the very least -, Lilith couldn’t possibly be one.

She must have had other reasons to be so hated and feared, so much in fact that she was considered dangerous... or valuable in the Emperor’s eyes; but then again, the Emperor could’ve only been after Adam like he was after all babies. Coming to Greendale hadn’t been the smartest idea and yet, if Lilith did, life must’ve really been terrible, outside, to prefer Hell on Earth to whatever that was beyond the town’s borders.

«What brought you here, in Greendale?» Zelda wondered, leaning slightly back as she propped herself on the bedpost. «Is it really that terrible out there?»

Lilith stared back at her with wide, blank eyes. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before drawing a sharp breath, her shoulder lifting into a helpless shrug.

«I didn’t want to come here.» She said with a low voice, it was uncertain, but it was sincere. «I _found_ myself here.»

Zelda nodded. She’d _found_ herself there as well: from the peaceful town she grew up with her sister and brother, she’d found herself under a dictatorship because of witches and monsters that she’d never actually see hurt nor kill anyone. She’d stayed silent, for months, merely adapting to what was happening, but she’d had enough.

«I guess you’re not a fan of Blackwood’s cult?» She offered, unconsciously lowering her voice just like any other time she talked about such a dangerous topic as if she was expecting charmed mockingbirds hearing somewhere only to report to the Emperor about people making treasonous speeches.

«What?» Lilith frowned, her face the perfect mask of confusion.

The redhead understood: it wasn’t her habit to talk about those things so openly and, basically, to a stranger, but she felt deep within her that she could trust Lilith, and Zelda’s instinct hardly failed.

«It’s alright.» The redhead assured her. «You’re safe here.» It was wise to play dumb, at first, all the rebellious’ first instinct was to lie and deny, but there was no need. Not there, when they were alone; not there when they were both in desperate need to help each other out. «I _promise_ I’ll keep you both safe.»

They stared at each other for a long time. Then, in Lilith's eyes sparkled something - faint, feeble, but it was there: Lilith had chosen to believe her.

Lilith chose to trust her, and Zelda felt at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think: **I really need your support**! Make me happy! Thank you ♡


	5. Chapter V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I am here. I mean, not just physically. For what it’s worth, I won’t leave you alone."  
> "It's worth everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

Chapter V

It was Blackwood. It had been Blackwood all along. 

Not Lucifer, but the deviated warlock who had been his flesh Acheron, for a while, the same man who she had bargained with to ensure survival for the both of them in a moment of utter despair - immortality for him, a stay of execution for her. She’d coupled with him to buy herself time, to make herself the one carrying His heir so that the Dark Lord wouldn’t kill her for the betrayal. But now Adam was born and her leverage disappeared.  
It was only a m atter of time before Lucifer would’ve claimed his right on her son and now that wasn’t fearing for her own life only, but for Adam’s wellbeing as well, Zelda Spellman had been and still was her best option to fend and strike back when the time would come.

For days she thought she would have to face Lucifer in that perverted universe where a skillful Coven of witches, led by the most powerful of them, all under the protection of the Dark Mother were dormant, it made sense, it was a great plan, she had to admit it, but in an instant, Zelda Spellman had thrown upside down all her beliefs.

That perverted world wasn’t Lucifer’s doing, but Blackwood’s. And in order to restore reality, they would have to face the same man who, in a certain way, gave her Adam.

Was Zelda aware of the bond between her and the so-called Emperor of Greendale, who, in the other world, even if rejected and banished, was still her husband? And again, Zelda knew about Adam’s heritage - at least she did in the other world even though she’d omitted the part where she told her exactly  _ how  _ she got pregnant with Adam in the first place. It seemed superfluous, back then, when she was begging for help while her insides were about to burst open, but perhaps it wasn’t superfluous after all. Was Zelda Spellman aware that all their lives were inevitably bound already, in twisted and sick ways?

And yet, once again, that was the past. For as complicated and painful the past was, the present was much more complicated and painful and until she would have solved that mess, complication and pain would only grow.

That perverted world wasn’t Hell’s Tenth Circle, there weren’t monsters on the loose nor emerged from the pit, her demon children weren’t roaming free in the woods, there wasn’t Lucifer at the top, although she still needed to understand if He was involved in any way. That perverted reality was Blackwood’s doing, and his sentinels made sure that his creed and his dictatorship thrived; he was the ruler, he was the king of his own Hell on Earth.

He put witches asleep, making believe them they were mortals, but there were others, like her, that were awake? Perhaps it was due to her nature, created by the False God in the Garden that she was only partially affected, but the only other special being of her knowledge was Sabrina and, for once, the insufferable brat didn’t seem to be around; not even Zelda had pronounced her name once, which was odd, to say the least. What about goblins and imps? Were they awake? And those who got caught or simply condemned?

A warlock that persecuted witches to satisfy his mania of empowerment. Didn’t he study? Didn’t he know about the trials, about Salem, about Val Camonica, about  Würzburg, about the Thirteen, about the suffering of their kind? If only he knew what she’d known. Lilith knew them all.

She was the first witch and for that, she was cursed with feeling  _ everything _ .  
Lilith felt when every fellow witch was tortured and killed and led to the most violent deaths, she listened when they cried for someone to take them away, they called for their Dark Lord, but he easily ignored them, bothering more about welcoming them in the afterlife than to lessen their agony. Lilith had cried with them and had curled in a corner, waiting for them to stop screaming her name because she couldn’t help them, not without Lucifer’s permission. Lilith felt it all on her skin, and she had withered in pain, powerless, as flames engulfed sisters, she had choked when they were hanged, had drowned on herself when they were pushed into the abyss into iron coffins. Lilith died with them and yet survived each time, standing up on her feet once the pain had faded, with a new scar on the inside that nobody would see.

She wouldn’t survive another trial; not like this, not without her original strength and powers. If that was a threat in that perverted world, then she had to do everything to prevent another one, even just one, from dying. 

If only Blackwood knew and felt, even one of those deaths, that perverted world would cease to exist. But then again, he wouldn’t even care, if he was even partly similar to the Dark Lord - and Lilith knew he was - hoping for him to develop a conscience was simply a hopeless case. Those two needed to be erased from existence… all in due time.

First, she needed to have strong people behind her back, because if there’s one major thing she’d learned since the Spellmans had entered her life - willingly or unwillingly - was that people were stronger together.

Zelda had offered to care for Adam while she took a bath.

Quite frankly, she longed for some alone time, and it was comforting to know that Zelda seemed a natural with him, not to mention that her son, despite being very picky when it came down to being around people - in the other reality, he always threw a lot of fits when Hilda tried to handle him for some growth or healthy check-ups - he seemed to be smitten with Zelda for some reason.

She often found herself taken aback whenever she spotted the two of them interact, as if they shared some kind of secret bond that Lilith, in her millenary ignorance about bearing and raising natural children, thought only mothers could share with newborns.

The demoness wasn’t jealous, of course she wasn’t, because that would’ve been stupid and unnecessary, but she couldn’t state with the same confidence that she wasn’t surprised.  
Her son wasn’t yet infected by the misconceptions of humanity - whether from Hell or Earth, superior beings or mortals and witches -, he merely lived his days depending on somebody to feed him and provide for him, his needs were basic, his primordial instincts the only way to communicate with the world.

Adam was pure and innocent, in his own way, and the fact that he stopped crying when Zelda Spellman held him just like he stopped crying when she held him after he was born, made Lilith think: Adam had immediately recognized her as his mother, as it should’ve been, as all the newborn do, but why did he act the same with the redhead witch? Did he know or feel something she couldn’t see or feel? But then again, who was she trying to fool? Hadn’t she been the first one to run to Zelda Spellman not once, not twice, but three times, when her life was in danger?  
Just like Adam, Lilith knew, deep down, that whenever Zelda was around, a cozy feeling of safeness came along.

It was a fact, plain and simple.

Not only because Zelda Spellman was the most powerful of her kind, but because there was something about her - both in the real world and in that perverted reality - that glowed like a beacon in an ocean of darkness. A beacon, however, that had to be awoken, perhaps in both of the dimensions: Zelda Spellman relied on superior beings to draw strength, and yet she wasn’t aware of the enormous strength she owned by herself. But Lilith knew it, she’d seen it, she’d  _ felt  _ it when Zelda used to pray to her.

As High Priestess of the Church of Lilith, she had never received help because she never needed any.  
Lilith was just waiting for her to realize it, but then, of course, destiny came along, and Lucifer was freed from His Acheron, Lilith lost the crown and her privileges, and Zelda the opportunity to unleash her true potential.

But that was History, a tale that seemed so distant in time that it didn’t even sound true.  
Perhaps one day, when the future generations would read and study those times, it would all make sense.  For now, it only seemed a tale of desperate souls trying to survive.

And wasn’t she the first survivor? Since she’d been banished from the Garden, left to walk alone with the only companion who stood loyal by her side, she had been a survivor. It was her fate to even be one, it seemed. Lilith was fine with it, as long as she would be able to make the best out of that condition, as long as it brought good things along with the bad. Now she had Adam, and her son was definitely a good thing.

Fastening the belt of one of the robes she borrowed from the dormant witch, Lilith couldn’t help smiling upon entering the chambers she shared, at night, with Zelda.

As she padded barefoot on the tiled floor, hair damp from the bath, she was greeted by her son’s gurgles, messy and chaotic as he experimented with his own voice, clearly not entirely mastered having control of any parts of his body. Zelda had put him on the bed, and she laid beside him, propped on her elbow, her finger carelessly tickling his tummy and playing with his hands whenever he jerked in her direction. Adam didn’t know how to laugh or smile consciously yet, but something inside Lilith told her he was doing both if only to return the smile blooming in front of his bleary eyes, if only to join the subtle, throaty laugh the red-haired witch was giving him.

Lilith stared at the scene unfolding before her, and she silently wondered if she’d walked into something she wasn’t supposed to see, something secret that only belonged to Zelda and Adam.  
Because it sure felt odd, as if Lilith had just laid her gaze on something unique.

Despite his nature, her son’s fusses were easily soothed and when he wasn’t complaining, he was a delight, but she couldn’t have said the same thing for Zelda Spellman. Yes, she was aware that the perverted world had uncovered a softer side of her that was otherwise concealed under a thick armor of sassiness and gratuitous hate, but Lilith asked herself whether she’d ever seen Zelda Spellman laugh, or even smile so genuinely, so freely, so serene, before then.

Already knowing the answer, Lilith felt incredibly sad, for a moment, upon realizing that once the witch would notice her presence, the spell would be broken and that rare smile would disappear. It was silly, and maybe it was the hormones and the absurdity of the situation, maybe it was her helplessness playing trick with her reborn heart, and she rationally forced herself to ignore such a sentimental thought and just keep going: after all, there were things to do.

«Thank you for watching over him.»

Just as predicted, when Zelda lifted her head, her smile was gone. She was still wearing one, but not as broad, simply the shadow of the old one, and still, it was enough to soothe Lilith.

«He’s been very good.» The red-haired woman replied, lips pursed as she gazed back to the baby gripping on her finger. «Isn’t that right, young man?»

Lilith swallowed, a strange sensation upon hearing one of her own pet names for her son coming out from another’s lips. But then again, it was a common one, and she couldn’t allow herself to dwell on the thing.

«How long before your next class?» She was glad she’d managed to make it sound casual, and she kept that demeanor while walking to the vanity, sitting on the chair to brush her hair and for a moment she really hated her state of close mortality that made vexing even the simplest of tasks. Another thing she had to deal with, as if everything else wasn’t enough.

«I have choir practicing later this evening, right before dinner.» The other informed. «I have time.»

Lilith wanted to ask if she didn’t have paperwork to do since when she had to pretend to be the schoolmarm Mary Wardwell, both as teacher and principal, she used to be buried in those, but then an Academy was different than a mortal High School. Besides, there was a part of her that longed for some adult company, even if she wouldn’t have admitted out loud.

From the mirror, she kept looking at Zelda and Adam on the bed, taking in how comfortable they were around each other, how much the sight soothed her spirit, somehow.

She peered at her own reflection and put down the brush, immediately tensing when the baby started to fuss.

The demoness turned immediately, already prompt to get up and shush him, but her jaw remained slack, sweet nonsense trapped in the middle of her throat when she heard Zelda shush him first, whispering herself sweet nonsense to the newborn who smoothed his features, even if his face remained scrunched up in a grumpy pout.

Lilith could do little but stare. The witch shifted gracefully on the bedspread, and before standing up completely, she folded the blanket over Adam’s body and scooped him up.

«Fine, I get it: you’ve had enough of me.» Zelda cooed softly, then walked across the small distance between them. Before Lilith could realize what was happening, she’d already lifted her arms to accommodate the squirming bundle she’d just been presented with. Adam curled on her shoulder right away and, turning to face the mirror once again, Lilith got a glimpse of the witch’s hand resting for a moment atop his head, rearranging the blanket protectively; the demoness didn’t speak a word of it.

«Do you mind if I open the window?» Zelda asked all of the sudden, fingers already gripping at the thick curtain as she peeked outside, probably making sure that none of the students - or worse, no sentinels patrolling the building - were on sight.

There were mortal things to be taken into consideration in that world, things she encountered only rarely when she played Mary Wardwell, some of the basic knowledge to conduct a relatively healthy life stored somewhere in her brain for her to forget or fish out on occasion, and changing the air was one of them.

Both she and Adam were too far from it to be affected by cool air, but she clutched at the robe unconsciously anyway since she’d discovered that coldness while being close to powerless, wasn’t at all pleasant. Brow pinched, suddenly feeling utterly uncomfortable, she hurried to nod her head.

Even though she couldn’t put her finger on it, she knew she’d left something out of place, and when a slightly stronger gush of wind seeped through the window and into the chambers, a loud squeak made her finally realize that, upon her return, she hadn’t locked the door behind her back.

Wide-eyed, her heart leaped into her throat, and through the mirror she watched the doors swing open. It had been a careless mistake. What if Adam had started crying? What if somebody had entered and accidentally peeked inside?

«I’ve got it.» Before she could do anything, Zelda sprung into action: she closed the window, drew the curtains back, and sprung to the doors to shut them and restore the shelter she’d created for the three of them - secluded from the rest of the building in their own bubble, far from the outside world, even a little out of time, their own little reality where they could both pretend everything was quiet while being painfully aware that it was not.

«Sorry I left it open.» She murmured with a flat voice, wondering if by rubbing circles on Adam’s back, she was indeed soothing her snoozing son or herself.

Lilith didn’t mean to make it sound so pitiful and frightening, but the thought of putting them in danger mixed with the sense of guilt of repaying so poorly Zelda Spellman’s efforts was a volatile mix that carried the unpleasant side-effect of making her lose control. She hated it all, about that close humanity that made her vulnerable and affectable; Lilith hated it all, but she couldn’t do anything about it.

«All clear.» Zelda quipped, pulling at the doorknobs to test them just for good measure.

The demoness watched her turn on her heels and leaned back on the door, a relieved breath leaving her mouth.

For a moment, their glances meet through the reflection of the mirror. Zelda Spellman stared at her for a long moment, blinked, then her parted lips closed and bent up into a soft smile.

«Listen,» she sighed, her eyes fluttered close for an instant, «I know you’re scared, but it’ll be alright, I promise.»

Lilith barked out a peal of laughter. Shaking her head, she averted her gaze from the mirror, suddenly interested in all the creases of the vanity wood.

«You don’t know that, unfortunately.» The demoness breathed out. Her heart clenched and an oppressing sensation of being hopeless engulfed her.

It was the second time she made that promise, a promise that it was impossible to know, for certain, anyone could be able to keep: Zelda Spellman’s will to resist was admirable, and without all the knowledge she should have, her strength and determination was even more impressive. And yet, there was so little a dormant witch could do, as things were. It was up to Lilith, instead, finding a way to outhrone Blackwood and destroy, once and for all, his empire of terror.

«I have to believe it’s true.» Zelda replied.

The brunette focused on the rhythmic tap of her heels hitting the floor as she walked around the room. She felt her getting closer, then turning away, once again toward the window, carefully peeking out; the students were there, enjoying a bit of sun before the next class, their voices loud and their laughs clear, despite all.

«You talk so ill about this world, and yet you still have so much hope in you.»

It had been like hearing another person talking; did she say those words, out loud? Lilith blinked, drew a breath, and then tentatively lifted her gaze on the mirror once again, searching for the red-haired witch’s reflection around the room. She tilted her head slightly, teeth scraping at her lip, and tensed when she saw Zelda walking closer; frowning because she wasn’t fast enough to readjust the angle in time, she wondered which expression the woman bore when she sighed.

«It’s not hope, Lilith.» She murmured back. «But something that makes people act just the same.» A deep sigh, then she watched Zelda fold her arms. «You have it too. You can’t see it, but you have it too.»

«Do I?» The demoness let out a breathy chuckle. «How can you be so sure? You don’t know me.» She murmured, wincing slightly because those words hurt: it was painfully true that no one, in that world, knew who she was.

If Blackwood had created that reality and only by coincidence everyone forgot about her, then it had been providential, if it was intentional, on the other hand, she had to fear him like she used to fear Lucifer. Blackwood, in a sense, was even more dangerous than the Dark Lord because he was unpredictable, for how similar they were, Lilith couldn’t rely on millennia by his side, studying his weak spots unlike she did with Lucifer: if anything, she needed to be twice as careful.

«I don’t know you,» Zelda confirmed through a sigh, «but I’ve seen how you look at Adam.» A pause. «You look at Adam like you’re scared of losing him.»

That was true: she was scared of losing him, constantly, from the moment he screamed bloody murder when he entered this world of sorrow, but hearing that from another, having the harsh truth being thrown into her face, made her stomach turn. The brunette frowned, suddenly at a loss of word. Without even realizing it, she clutched the baby closer to her and waited for Zelda to continue, torn between wanting to hear more and wishing for that trial to end soon. 

«You’re scared of someone coming through that door to snatch him away from you at any moment.» Zelda went on, but still the other couldn’t see the expression on her face. That too was correct. «I feel the same, every day, with them.» This time, Lilith didn’t have to look at her face to know that she was looking toward the window where, behind the glass and the heavy curtains, her students were. «I look at you and see myself when I peer in the mirror every morning. »

She’d never once in her long life, heard Zelda Spellman talk insincerely: her tongue was sharp when it needed to be sharp, it didn’t falter when it had to banish a woman begging for help, it didn’t quiver when it carried spell to kill the kings of Hell, but those speeches were always proof of unabashed strength, while that… was a different matter. Zelda still projected strength while talking so openly about something that could make anyone else look fragile.

Sentiments had always been precluded for witches, always considered a weakness, but in a world where Zelda Spellman wasn’t a witch, she was free to talk about those too, she was free to talk about fears, and share them with what she thought was another like her.

Blinking into the mirror, she watched as the redhead walked even closer and her hand hovered above Adam’s head, her thumb gently stroking his brow, peeling the blanket off the line of fuzzy dark hair.

Lilith stared at her hand, transfixed, and waited. She knew those green eyes were peering at the baby’s peaceful face to draw quiet and braveness from it because it was exactly what she used to do herself when she felt overwhelmed. Without doing anything, Adam anchored her, made her see clear, ordered her thoughts.

«I might not know you yet, but I know your burden, Lilith.» Zelda mumbled, and her voice was flat, almost as if she was simply talking to herself, without an audience, whispering secrets she had never shared with anyone before, things that weren’t meant to be heard, and yet she was sharing them. «You look at your son, you tell him you’re going to fix it, and you believe those words, you truly do, and you smile at him, and even then, there’s sadness in your eyes.»

Her heart skipped a beat. Was that what Zelda Spellman saw, every morning when she looked at herself? 

Lilith lifted her gaze, peering in the vanity mirror to take her own face in. For the first time, she really looked at herself, and she realized, with horror and resignation, that Zelda Spellman was right: she’d told Adam she was going to make things right, she believed those word, for as desperate the situation seemed, and she smiled at him and despite everything, there was indeed a gloomy shadow flicked in the back of her eyes.

And then she felt something weight upon her shoulder.

Lowering her gaze, through the mirror, she saw Zelda’s hand gripping the robe, her skin fair, her fingers slender with red-lacquered nails moving subtly over the thin fabric, sending chills through her body. It was a simple touch, but she was so starved for any unconditional form of affection she’d even forgotten how it felt like to receive comfort after Adam, no matter how light it was, so she stood there, unsure of how to react.

Zelda, however, didn’t seem to mind.

«If I can make you feel safe, then I’ll be able to make  _ them  _ feel safe too.» She confessed in the end. She sighed and, by the way her breath left her lips, Lilith could easily imagine her smile. «I wouldn’t want anything more.»

* * *

Zelda exhaled frustratedly.

If one little heart-to-heart conversation was capable of throwing her off balance not only for a few hours, but for a whole day, then she seriously had to consider the idea of stopping talking altogether.

She wasn’t used to sharing such intimate information with simply anymore, actually, she had a lot of hard times with her sister as well, back in the days where life was a little bit simpler and they could share their sorrows until the wee hours. Since the privilege had been stripped from her, both forced to dedicate themselves to a higher cause, bottling up their fears, that was the first time she’d confessed her thoughts to somebody. To Lilith. Because somehow, despite the limited knowledge they had of each other, talking to Lilith was easy.

Talking to Lilith was like talking to no other because not only she listened - just like Marie had done, more than once, supporting her rants whenever she felt like venting about this or that issue - but there was something beyond that bright blue that told Zelda that she  _ felt  _ as well. She yearned to talk to her like she had never yearned to talk to anybody. She even yearned to know her story, Adam’s story, and was willing to wait patiently for Lilith to share those with her own timing.

Collecting the papers and some of the folders from her desk, she glanced over the clock and noticed that recess had only recently started, which gave her the chance to venture in the headquarters, past her office, and into her chambers, to spend time in the only place that, as of late, seemed to bring her some peace. If only everything was different, she would drag Lilith outside for a stroll and they would watch together Adam as he peered at the trees, at the sky, and at the clouds with his wide unfocused eyes, in awe of the world.

Unfortunately, there was nothing to be in awe of. Or very little.

«Care to join me for a promenade, Madam Spellman?»

Usually, that voice would put a smile to her face no matter what; normally, that proposition would make her nod enthusiastically, sighing at the idea of a relaxing time around the Academy; once upon a time, Marie wouldn’t even have to go search for her in her class because it would be Zelda to go wait outside hers and ask to spend time together. Now she only felt irritated for being delayed to flee where she wanted, somewhere Marie didn’t belong.

She slowly lifted her gaze and concealed her first instinct to roll her eyes, instead, she put on a fake smile that she hoped could pass for genuine, perhaps simply a tired one.

«I would love to, but I’m afraid I need to sort out some things.» She said vaguely, silently praying that the hesitancy in her voice wouldn’t trigger more specific questions about the matter.

«Isn’t that right?» Marie rested her fist on her hip, the tip of her tongue running across the sharp edge of the top row of her teeth. She seemed almost amused by the situation, while Zelda only felt uncomfortably warm. «It seems like you spend an awful amount of time in your office these days, chérie. Are you hiding something?»

«Don’t be ridiculous.»

Zelda had never meant to snap, but she did. Despite everything, Marie didn’t deserve such a treatment: if she had to be fair, the woman didn’t know the first thing about the storm brewing inside of her and was acting just like any other lover who had suddenly been brushed aside without even a proper explanation.

The redhead bowed her head, and even then she could imagine her smirk falling into an authentically concerned grimace as she stepped closer to her desk, ducking a little so she could take a glimpse of her face.

«What is it, Zelda?» The french accent rolled sweetly on her name.

Normally, it would make the woman smile, now it was only making her even more annoyed: regardless of her snapping, or her refusal to talk, Marie acted affable around her, probably blaming her hot temper on stress like usual.

Zelda wished she had the courage to simply tell her everything, but she didn’t have it in her. For as wrong as it was to keep her unaware of her shifting emotions, she didn’t want to break the heart of the only person who had stayed by her side through the good and the bad, first as a friend and then as something more. And then, how could she tell her about how she felt without bringing up the dirty little secret hidden in her chambers? No, that simply wouldn’t do.

«Nothing.» The redhead breathed out, shaking her head a little. Hoping to convince Marie, she forced herself to lift her gaze and pressed her lips into a tight smile, «It’s nothing, really.»

«D’accord.» She breathed out, placing one hand on the desk, she leaned heavily into it, dark eyes boring into the redhead. «You’ll tell me if something is wrong, oui? We haven’t talked in a while.»

Before she could reply to that, her free hand had cupped Zelda’s cheek.

It was warm against her skin, it was familiar, and yet she didn’t lean into the touch; it wasn’t soothing, nor reassuring. It didn’t lack fondness or affection, but Zelda simply didn’t feel either of those - it only brought a strange discomfort.

With a sigh, the redhead was painfully aware that didn’t belong there, not anymore.

For as much as she tried - not too hard, if she had to really be honest with herself - her thoughts only ever drifted to Lilith and Adam. She should’ve felt at least a tiny bit guilty for leaving Marie on her own after an awkward conversation that had the clear aftertaste of something shattering, but she simply didn’t feel guilty.

Zelda’s head was already too busy galloping on the possibilities: should she really end whatever she and Marie had in the name of something so uncertain and potentially fallible? And then again, who was she kidding, already getting ahead of herself without knowing Lilith’s opinion about  _ anything _ ; that woman simply sought for refuge, she wished to help in every way she could, but that didn’t mean that her intention went beyond a convenient allegiance or friendship - or whatever she preferred to call it.

Regardless of Marie, of herself, of Lilith, she was sleeping in the same room with another woman, keeping the said woman hidden, away under her own protection unbeknownst to anyone.  
It had been a rough collision, at first, but after a few days things had turned out exceptionally good: the chambers she’d learned to hate because she had to sleep there and not home, had become her little shelter, where someone was there to listen and a baby always ready to make her happy with his messy gurgles that hadn’t yet turned into full laughs.

The first time she held Adam, she thought her mother would’ve killed her, now she would take the infant from the cot and cradle him without asking for permission, following the unnegotiated arrangement on taking night turns even though Lilith had nothing particular to do during the day; she would talk and play with Adam, sometimes even quarrel with his mother about who got him longer.  
It seemed natural, and it brought a certain relief to have him around, a delightful distraction from her life.  
Zelda couldn’t deny the fact that, even if that wasn’t what they were doing - or at least, not officially - taking care of a newborn together, inevitably bounded two people.

Marie had nothing to do with that and neither did Lilith. She couldn’t do anything about it, it was just how it was, and it wasn’t even it.

Even if unaware of the thoughts crossing her head, of the consideration dwelling in her mind most of the day and taking form as dreams at night, Lilith was easy to deal with because she was similar to herself.

Zelda didn’t mean to exhale, and yet, upon entering her chambers through her office door, and closing the rest of the world outside, she did, letting go out all the tension hovering on her shoulders.

Zelda didn’t mean to smile either, and yet, upon seeing the quiet scene before her eyes, she did, her head slightly tilted to the side as she let those two work like a balm on her soul without doing anything - Lilith and Aadam were  _ just there _ , and it was enough.

«And what are you guys doing on the floor?» She asked, mirth in her voice.

Without waiting for an answer or wasting another minute, she pushed her hair behind her ears, inched up the pencil skirt, and crawled to the floor as well, sitting back with her legs pressed bent on one side, knees one atop of the other, supporting her weight with one hand.

Her eyes hadn’t torn from Adam, who had been placed on his tummy on the brown blanket, and was now settled between her and Lilith, who was sitting with her legs straight, propped against one pilaster of the mantle.

«Someone told me it should be good to strengthen his muscles.» The brunette commented, only barely lifting her gaze to check on Adam, who was starting to fuss for his inability to move much, but he was still trying without getting too frustrated - not yet.

Zelda wondered who might’ve told her that. She often justified some actions blaming on a mysterious someone who had taught her or infused knowledge, but Lilith was always careful not to mention names. Maybe it was a raw wound, maybe she wasn’t ready to talk about it, or just some random family knowledge; either way, Zelda didn’t feel in the position to pressure her in anything.

Quietly chuckling when Adam let out a particular high-pitched coo before succeeding in moving one arm and kicking his legs which resulted in falling flat on his blanket, Zelda cautiously peeked over the other woman with the corner of her eyes: she saw Lilith closing her notebook in her lap and put it next to her thigh, maybe even unconsciously hiding it from the redhead’s sight.

A couple of days ago she’d insisted on borrowing a notepad and a pen. Zelda hadn’t seen a reason to refuse them and despite her undying curiosity to know what she used those for, constantly scribbling away without telling her, Zelda wanted to respect her privacy, whatever her notes were about. Perhaps it was simply a journal to keep track of Adam’s developments.

«What is it? I can hear you thinking, Zelda Spellman.»

It was an odd feeling, being called like that: it wasn’t like hearing her first name leaving her family’s lips when they called her, it wasn’t like hearing one of the students call her ‘Madam’, it wasn’t a term of endearment given by a lover. It was Lilith calling her with her complete name - save for her middle one - without making it sound like a negative thing like when her parents yelled at her or scolded her for something she did. It was different from any other way a person could call her. Or maybe it was simply Lilith who was different.

Zelda sighed and fought the bittersweet smile from blooming on her lips, but she failed. Trying to conceal it, she lowered her gaze on the squirming babe, half wondering if they really were to stay there and watch him struggle - and for how long, exactly? She frowned and temporarily pushed away that thought.

«A lot of things happened lately and I was just considering that we’re very much alike.» Zelda murmured, her teeth closing on the inside of her lip almost painfully.

Yes, talking to Lilith was easy, but that didn’t give her the right to cross boundaries. What if the other woman wasn’t keen on making such open-heart talkings? After all, the last time they had a deep conversation, she barely gave any opinion at all, stood there tense and confused, almost lost.

«Are we?» Lilith wondered, her voice barely above a breath.

It was enough to spur Zelda to carry on.

«Indeed: both survivors, both alone.» The redhead murmured, wincing at how depressed it sounded. And yet, it was true.

Zelda, however, made the mistake of leaving the sentence slightly hanging, so Lilith cut in before she could put a full stop to it, in the form of a sigh, and transform that consideration into a statement.

«I’m not alone.» The brunette countered, slightly defensive: her walls were up again.

Zelda watched her as she finally decided to end the baby’s struggle: she turned him carefully and scooped him up to let him rest on her thighs, his little arms and legs flaring in the air as he looked up at the ceiling with unexplained wonder.

«I have Adam.» She declared, matter-of-factly, even though her voice was low, almost uncertain.

«That’s not quite what I meant.» The redhead countered. She waited for Lilith to lift her gaze from her son, but she didn’t. «I too have my family and my students and colleagues with whom I share time and struggles on a daily basis.» Zelda explained, then sighed, louder than needed, hoping to draw her attention. «I wasn’t talking about Adam.»

«Then what were you talking about?»

«Where is Adam’s father?» She blurted out fighting her frustration with a bluntness that tethered toward impoliteness. «Is he gone from your lives?» She prompted with a careless shrug. «Or is he dead, perhaps?» Before she had time to realize the mistake - it could’ve been a sore point, or mention the baby’s father would’ve triggered hurtful memories - Zelda bit her tongue and lowered her gaze, the apologies already hanging from her lips.

«To me he is.» Lilith snarled, almost immediately, with a low and flat voice that only meant to cut the argument short; she wasn’t hurt though: the woman was plainly enraged - which was a relief, in Zelda’s mind, as strange as it could sound.

«Both done with men.» The redhead stated with a sigh.

A crooked smile crept on her lips that didn’t want to sound either happy or nostalgic. Whatever the reason why Adam’s father wasn’t in the picture anymore, he was gone and Lilith didn’t seem to want him back, not even in a million years. Whether he was a bad man, or simply not fit for her, it didn’t matter; what did matter, instead, was that he wasn’t there, which made Zelda oddly  _ confident _ .

«In a way.» Lilith confirmed with a small nod, then just barely lifted her gaze, one eyebrow quirked in her direction. «Women perhaps?»

She wasn’t expecting Lilith to be so straightforward on the topic.  
Sure, same-sex romantic was one of the things that weren’t banned or illegal - for now - but the question had simply taken her by surprise.

She couldn’t deny anymore that she’d indulged in more than one trysts with Marie as a diversion, a way to turn off her brain from reality and dwell in carnal pleasure - from her part, at least. Zelda had spent a lot of time thinking that there was more to it,  _ wishing  _ there was more to it, but she had to face the truth and admit to herself that those encounters were only a way to avoid loneliness - and yet, despite her sentiments about Marie, she hadn’t had the courage to tell her, preferring settling for that mockery of companionship rather than loneliness because Zelda thought she couldn’t aspire for more. Could she? She shrugged, teeth scraping her bottom lip.

«I don’t know, it’s- complicated.» She scoffed, wincing just a bit. She didn’t like the smile that appeared, ever-so-slowly, on Lilith’s lips: it had the aftertaste of something bittersweet.

«This kind of talk about being alone and hopeless doesn’t apply to you, Zelda Spellman.» The brunette replied with a small voice. «You  _ do  _ have someone.»

It was then that Zelda realized her mistake: her hesitancy, her sighs, her sorrowful mood, had been misread for something close to heartbreak or rejection, of someone seeking love without being reciprocated. Her situation was entirely different, if anything, she was on the other side: somebody sought for her, but Zelda wasn’t sure she felt the same and she was too much of a coward to simply speak up and tell her because she was afraid of being alone.

«You’re mistaken.» The redhead breathed out, struggling to straighten her back since her shoulders had become unbearably heavy, all of the sudden. «I  _ am  _ alone.»

Was she a horrible person to think those things? Should she just be grateful to have somebody care for her and make an effort for their relationship - whatever that was - to work out? Probably, but there was something inside her that screamed.

There were a lot of things to struggle for, but love should have never been one of them.  
There was something inside of her that told her that if she had to force it, then it was wrong. With Lilith… everything came easy and natural. From taking care of her son, to talk about everything, even about her inner fears, whether it was during the day or in the wee hours. Lilith was there and she  _ listened _ .

«Zelda, hear me out-» The brunette began sighed heavily. Clearing her throat, she bowed her head, almost as if she couldn't bear to look into her eyes as she spoke further. Was she embarrassed? Did she need to find courage, but for what? She’d just shared something that couldn’t possibly put her into a more vulnerable situation, what could ever compete with that? Lilith drew a breath. «I am here. I mean, not just physically. For what it’s worth,» her breath hitched and Zelda held hers when their gazes met, «I won’t leave you alone.» 

Zelda hoped the woman couldn’t see the tears forming in her eyes.

She smiled, nodded, and bowed her head, swallowing when she noticed that their hands were practically touching, separated by a whiff.

It would have been so easy to get closer and just grab her hand, feel the warmth of her hand underneath her fingers.

«It’s worth everything.»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment, let me know what you think & make me happy! Thank you ♡


	6. Chapter VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You and I both know that there will come a time when you’ll have to make a choice, and the children must always come first."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

Chapter VI 

When she woke up and hesitantly blinked her eyes open, she already realized it was early in the morning, perhaps barely after the cracks of dawn. She stretched her neck a little to peer outside the window and actually confirm her sensation, but the movement made her wince in pain and she let her head fall back on the pillow.

Zelda struggled to remember where she was exactly, over the throbbing buzz that had settled in her head, and curled on herself when she felt her stomach cramp.

She was at the Academy, so it was presumably a school day. She had classes. Her students to protect. She had things to do. She was… extremely confused and could barely make out the past days. Zelda hated migraines; not only the unbearable pain but the helplessness that accompanied that nasty condition. For goodness’ sake, she couldn’t even remember what day it was.

When she felt the mattress dipping next to her, she was vaguely surprised that somebody had bothered to come to check on her, but at the thought of whom it could be, she felt a hot wave of nausea hitting. She didn’t know exactly why, but she didn’t want _her_ to be there.

«I’m fine.» She rasped.

Zelda hated how her voice sounded and when another needle hit her temple, she hid her face behind her hand to conceal her pitiful wince of pain.

Upon feeling the dampness on her brow, she retried her hand and stared at what were supposed to be two of her fingers but that, in reality, were four - or more - dancing before her face, the pads faintly coated with perspiration.

«You’re not.»

Zelda swallowed, thinking her migraine was worse than she thought when she realized that her voice sounded different. She’s not only seeing double - or triple - but her mind was also corrupted.

She felt a cool cloth pressed against her forehead and she stilled. Hilda used to take care of her when she felt unwell and, in her whole life, she’d never allowed anyone to do something similar. And there was a part of her - she didn’t know which one - that simply hated the idea of that woman getting too familiar and letting herself in her private chambers to take care of her.

Despite the relief, despite how soothing it felt, Zelda lifted her arm and tried to bat away the hand holding that cloth.

«Marie, I’m fine.» She croaked, huffing frustratedly when she totally missed.

«It’s Lilith.»

 _Lilith_. Like a wave, memories and flashes of the past weeks washed over her brain, overwhelming her - Lilith, the baby, Marie, the students, Blackwood - and she was left whimpering at the thought of not being able to solve not even one of those problems. Lilith’s voice sounded familiar now and she anchored to it as she shushed her, pressing the cool cloth on her forehead again. Now that she knew that the hand holding the cloth belonged to Lilith, though, being taken care of wasn’t so hideous nor annoying anymore.

«I’m sorry, I just-» Zelda drew a breath, letting her eyelids fall close, craving for some blessed darkness. «I get confused when I get my migraines.»

«Does it happen often?»

Zelda barely registered the gentle fingers pinching a few strands of hair that got stuck on her brow and pushing those back behind her ear.

«Only when I’m stressed.» She scoffed, immediately regretting her decision to be ironical, and forced herself to stop that hinted chuckle that only enhanced the throbbing in her head. «Quite often, but it’s bearable.»

«Doesn’t seem too bearable today.» Lilith commented with a sigh.

«Today it isn’t.» The other confirmed.

When she felt another pang in her stomach, she turned to the side and pushed her knees up, flinching back immediately when her legs touched Lilith’s as she sat beside her. The redhead thought about giving her apologies - she’d probably bumped into her hip or her tail bone and it surely hadn’t been comfortable - but she couldn’t too taken aback when she felt the covers being drawn up to her shoulders, a probing behind her back as the woman practically tucked her in. 

«Do you want me to stop talking?» Lilith asked softly, voice thick with concern.

Normally, she would say _yes_. Zelda knew that one of the main things she needed to recover was absolute silence, and yet she didn’t want Lilith to stop talking. She wanted to be absolutely sure not only that the brunette was in that room - of course, where else could she go? - she wanted to know that Lilith was there; she wanted to feel her near. Her voice was simply too soothing and calming for Zelda to renounce it so easily.

«No.» She murmured, praying that she wouldn’t have to regret it. «It keeps my mind off the pain.» She lied, hoping, however, the statement could turn truthful.

Sighing, Zelda rubbed her face into the pillow and tried to find a more comfortable position as Lilith placed the cloth on her brow and left it there. When she noticed that the woman hadn’t stood up or scooted away, but had remained there, perched on the side of the bed, practically framed by her legs, Zelda felt oddly relieved and, unconsciously, hinted the faintest of smiles.

«Who’s Marie?»

The newborn smile, however, died rather quickly. She wished for Adam to throw one of his fits and although she knew it would be plain torture for her, at least Lilith would have to drop the argument to calm him down and maybe sing to him - that way, she’d have it both. But of course, Adam wasn’t feeling cooperative right now and Lilith wasn’t keen on dropping the argument nor changing her inquiry.

Feeling under trial somehow and under more pressure, as the minutes passed and she remained silent, she swallowed and unconsciously buried her face deeper in the crease of her pillow, balled hands resting against her mouth.

«Nobody.» She grumbled with a little shrug.

« _Zelda_.» The other warned, although it was clear the absence of venom in her voice.

In fact, Zelda could even imagine the half-smirk plastered on her mouth upon her stubbornness, which, paired with her current condition, made Zelda feel like a small child being lectured. She should’ve felt irritated, outraged even, but she was none of those things; the redhead felt simply exposed and obliged to answer, as if under a strange truth charm.

«She’s a colleague.» She said. After all, it wasn’t a lie.

She heard Lilith scoff with a breathy, disbelieving chuckle.

«I see.»

«It’s not what you think.»

«Oh, and what am I thinking?»

She didn’t like that tone, she didn’t like the implication albeit true. Zelda hated being caught while she was desperately trying to cover up something by telling just a part of the story. She hated how Lilith could see right through her and read her like an open book and wasn’t afraid to either talk to her sincerely or tease her just for the sake of it. It was comforting and liberating. That, however, wasn’t a right argument for teasing because, in fact, there was no argument at all. Or, to better say, Zelda had wrapped her head around the fact that she didn’t want for it to be an argument any more - she just needed to brace herself and find the courage to admit it out loud. She had to start somewhere, she had to start with someone and she knew that Lilith was easy to talk to, she knew Lilith would listen, she knew Lilith wouldn’t judge her and she hoped Lilith could… _understand_.

«We’re not involved with each other anymore.» She breathed out, almost in one go.

«But you have been.» Lilith commented.

Zelda nodded slightly, then sighed.  
She was waiting for the admission to hurt a bit, to make her feel nostalgic in some way - Marie and she had shared a lot, after all - but she could only feel the mild guilt of dumping such a good woman who had done nothing wrong.

«Seems like another life.» She said, and it was true: since Lilith and Adam arrived, her life had like reset. Anything before their arrival felt like a blur, a joke, a distant past that only had to be forgotten to make space for a brighter future - she’d felt that way since she’d cradled that baby in her arms.

Keeping them safe was her purpose, of that, she was sure and it wasn’t a secret.

«If you say so.»

The redhead grunted. How could she sense that what she wanted to be a closure wasn’t yet officially one? Her life was a mess and she needed to sort things out, quickly. If she wanted to move on, it was only fair and just to put an end to the unfinished business.

Yes, she should do it. She had to do it and own her decisions - after all, she was an adult woman, she had to set an example for all her students. How could she pretend to teach them how to live their lives if she couldn’t even speak up for herself? There were things that couldn’t be controlled in the world, but some could, with a firm mind and a strong will; and some courage, if one was lucky to own it.

Fine: the time had come to set the first stone. The rebels were in turmoil, the students were exasperated, the world - part of the town at least - was finally beginning to question the creed. Things were about to change everywhere, so why not change something of her life that didn’t make her happy anymore? Marie was better off without her and Lilith needed her whole. She’d made a promise to protect them - Lilith, her baby, and the students - and she couldn’t do it efficiently if her mind was off somewhere else.

Zelda nodded to herself. It was decided. She simply needed to survive the migraine.

Forcing her eyes open, she tried again to peer at the window, and actually knowing how far in the morning they were, she pushed her hand on the pillow and tried to put pressure on her shoulder to lift herself up. She groaned, shutting her eyes tight when her head started to spin.

«Stay down.» Lilith said, soothingly but firmly.

«I need to-» The other protested, her mind galloping over all the things she needed to do - classes, papers to grade, calendars to update, weekly reportage from the sentinels to review and check, new banned books and artifacts to hide in the basement - but when the brunette pushed down, her slender hand splayed on her chest, guiding gently her back on the mattress, she had no choice but surrender and lay supine once again. She sighed in relief when she felt the covers being pulled up under her chin and a slight pat over the covers right on her sternum.

«It’s your day off.» Lilith reminded her. «You can rest.»

Unconsciously, she let her eyes drift close once again and nodded to herself. If it was her day off, then it must’ve been Sunday.  
She used to love Sundays, when it still meant she was home with her family, enjoying quiet time in front of the tv or with a nice book in her lap.

Things were different now. She hadn’t been home in a while, and she usually had some paperwork to do, but Sundays were still her favorite days of the week, especially since Lilith arrived: she could spend more time with her and Adam, let the child take away her worries with his adorable shrieks and talk with Lilith until late in the night.

Lilith. Lilith didn’t tell her it was Sunday - she merely said that it was her day off, hence she was allowed to rest. It meant that Lilith had memorized her schedule and made that routine her own. Not that it should’ve surprised Zelda since that poor woman had nothing to do but read, scribble away in her notebook and watch over her newborn son, but it was a nice feeling to have somebody to share her whole life with, somebody who knew where she was most of the time, somebody that, in a way, knew when she waited for her to come back.

«I would get you some tea.» Lilith sighed tiredly after a while.

Zelda cracked her eyes open, unable to suppress the smile that was already creeping on her lips: despite the unquestionable kindness of the altruistic thought, the woman was simply voicing her own needs. The redhead sighed and made her second attempt to get up, letting out a breathy chuckle when, once again, Lilith could put her down with the slightest of effort.

«I said that _I_ would get you tea.» She said, stressing the pronouns.

Zelda nodded and sighed, warding off a wave of faint nausea.

«I heard you.» She swallowed. «But we can’t have you wander around the Academy, can we? You don’t know the first thing about this place, not to mention if someone happens to see you-»

«Fine, I get it.» The other snapped. «I wasn’t suggesting that.»

«We agree on that, but I still need to get you food.» She sighed, blinking a few times before successfully opening at least one of her eyes without seeing double. At the puzzled expression of the brunette, Zelda couldn’t help releasing a small giggle, wincing immediately when another imaginary needle pierced through her temple and settled behind her eyes. «Lilith, I can hear your stomach grumble over my migraine.»

She saw the woman straightening her back, her arms coming to fold neatly over her chest.

«I’ll survive.» She declared somewhat proudly.

Zelda would’ve shaken her head, but renounced the idea when she realized it would probably worsen her dizziness or nausea or both things. Swallowing thickly, she touched her neck and wiped off some perspiration with the pads of her fingers: the quarrel had been fun, in a way, but didn’t solve their problems.

«Still, someone is probably going to come to check on me before noon.» She murmured, clearing her throat to camouflage the quivering of her voice, albeit poorly.

«By _someone_ you mean _Marie_?» The other inquired a small, knowing smirk curving her lips.

Zelda could easily tell by the tone of her voice that the other woman wasn’t vexed, just up for some teasing, but she couldn’t state it didn’t burn or hurt a least a tiny bit nonetheless.

She nodded slowly, bobbing her head up and down against the pillow.

«It’s early, isn’t it?» She waited for Lilith to hum in reply. «Then let me think, I’ll come up with something.»

«I’m sure you will.» She whispered. A sighed, then her head bowed down, a cascade of dark curls curtaining her face. «You’re rather good at telling lies.»

Zelda felt pricked in her pride by that remark. «I have to be.» She snarled. «I have to be, especially to protect people.» Yes, being a good liar could be frowned upon pretty much everywhere, but the town of Greendale required good liars to ensure survival for many. Was she aware that she and her son were alive and well thanks to a lie? And she would have lied again and again, if necessary, without a single hesitation. «I do not feel guilty, nor I regret it.»

«That’s not what I meant, Zelda.»

Her face softened when she heard the sorrowful inflection of the woman’s voice.  
«Then what did you mean?» She inquired but mentally cursed Adam’s timing when he began to fuss and complain, reminding everyone in that room that he was there and he had very impellent needs of his own.

«Excuse me.»

She didn’t know if Lilith stood up so quickly to escape the question or to avoid Adam to erupt into a full crying fit that would most likely split her head in two, but she practically fled and Zelda felt incredibly lonely on the empty bed.

Carefully, she rolled to her side and quietly stared at Lilith with hooded eyes.

As she fed him, the woman began to hum quietly, and she found herself sighing in relief when that sound didn’t bring any pain like she was expecting to be, but it only felt soothing and relaxing.

When it stopped, she couldn’t suppress a lamenting groan escaping her lips, pouting slightly as a stubborn child being denied some pleasure. Looking up to ensure Lilith hadn’t noticed, she felt her cheeks grow warmer when she realized that the brunette was indeed looking back, eyebrows raised up questioningly.

«I thought I was bothering you.» She frowned in a haze.

«Don’t stop on my account.» Zelda whispered, smiling when the expression on the other woman’s face softened, her blue eyes blinking at the tired light of the sunbeam seeping through the edges of the curtains. « _Please_.»

Lilith resumed her humming.

At mid-morning, when she was able to sit up and walk to her office, she phoned Cassius and told him she wasn’t feeling well. Putting on a small show, she told him with a raspy voice that she probably had caught a nasty bug and wished not to be disturbed for the day, making sure that nobody were to venture in her quarters for any reason because the last thing they needed was a flu epidemic to spread in the School. The old man wished her a speedy recovery and assured her he would arrange something with the kitchen staff for the food issue.  
At noon, Lilith cautiously tiptoed in the hallway right outside the office, retrieved a tray from the food lift, and shared the meal with her, as always - although this time the brunette only feasted on half of a bun, leaving the most to her.

By mid-afternoon, Zelda was feeling better and they were both nestling two cups of steaming tea that the woman had poured for them from the thermos.

Smiling at the squirming babe currently curled in her lap, Zelda took a sip from her mug, careful not to spill a single drop on Adam, and kept stroking his leg while she held him close.

The brunette had insisted on settling the bed and tidying up the room by herself while she rested, and they were now sitting one in front of the other in two twin armchairs, the spent fireplace between them; by their sides, a small coffee table with one shorter leg that made it wobbly and Adam’s empty bassinet lying on the floor. The redhead was quite content with the little spot she’d created during those last few days, collecting what was deemed as junk from the basement to have somewhere they could sit and talk that wasn’t the bed - perhaps she could even assemble something and provide Lilith with a desk so she wouldn’t have to balance her notebook on her thighs and curse her sore muscles after a particularly intense session of scribbling.

Zelda startled a little when she heard the soft thump of the woman putting down her mug and, for the longest moment, their gaze met. They could hear the distant buzzing of the students outside as they laughed and talked or simply enjoyed the sun, while in that room, everything was peaceful and quiet.

With her head empty of the pain, her thoughts, however, screamed louder: they never discussed any of that, she simply took Lilith’s tranquility and safeness there for granted. Zelda would go there not only to sleep at night but during every awake moment of her days, she would go and take Adam out of his cot whenever she felt like having his squirming weight in her arms, and Lilith - after the first time - had never complained. Was she imposing in their lives? What if that woman simply sought salvation - which was understandable - and was allowing her to step into their lives merely to secure that salvation, or as a sort of payback?

Very often Zelda, especially when she had Adam, caught Lilith staring at her.  
She simply stared, blue eyes boring into her, intelligible.

She wished she could tell what was going on inside that head, under that thick mass of dark curls, but Zelda just couldn’t, and it unsettled her. She could never really tell if she was content with that arrangement or, instead, if Lilith hated her guts and didn’t feel in the position of saying such out loud.

Lilith was staring right now. Her gaze would drift from the baby - and then the ghost of a smile would appear on her lips - to her face, and from there she stared.

Zelda felt like she was looking at her very soul, she felt naked, and yet she wasn’t afraid because, even if she could actually look, then what could she see? Lilith knew everything, she knew more than most of the people who considered themselves Zelda’s friends. Perhaps she would see the rot in her heart, unable to decide and wield courage, perhaps she would see the fear, for herself and the people who depended on her, but then, what? For as much as she loathed to admit it, Zelda was transparent. If Lilith wanted to hate her or despise her, she could do it freely.

«Zelda?» The brunette called. «You’re brooding again.»

Swallowing, the redhead snapped out of her thoughts, focusing on the woman in front of her. At times it was nice to have Lilith knowing what was going on in her head, others it was simply unsettling to realize that she pulled out from that swirl of thoughts a moment before she could lose in the most sorrowful of them.

Following her gaze, Zelda gasped a little when she noticed that Adam had sunk in her lap, and was pouting slightly for the uncomfortable position he was currently laying - not to mention that the mug in her hand was tilted rather dangerously. She hurriedly got rid of the mug and cradled the baby, instinctively shushing him when he let out a lamenting coo.

«I’m sorry, I was just-» Zelda began, excusing herself, but then she stopped because what would she say about it? The woman knew she was prone to brood and she’d learn how to promptly pull her out of her dazzling state when necessary, or let her be on other occasions. Now she’d threatened her son’s safety with steaming hot tea. She had all the rights to feel enraged, despite her body language told otherwise, gracefully laid back in the armchair, legs crossed, hands folded over her notebook in her lap. Zelda felt uneasy under her heavy gaze. «You want him?»

The redhead looked at her expectancy, but Lilith blinked, her features softening immediately as she shook her head.

«It’s fine,» she said, «he seems quite content there.»

And then, Zelda could finally grasp something in that intelligible spectrum of neutral staring: Lilith wasn’t angry, she wasn’t feeling trapped or forced to show gratitude, she wasn’t holding any grudges; Lilith was scared, like everybody else, but combined with her deep fear, there was also sorrow.

Could she feel it too, that that arrangement was only a way to avoid a terrible fate? Or maybe she felt like they were simply delaying the inevitable? For how long was she planning for something, without her knowing? Zelda didn’t like how she looked at her, she didn’t like how she looked at Adam and she absolutely didn’t like the way she looked at her and Adam together.

Lilith bowed her head as if caught doing something she shouldn’t have. She took a small breath, her chest rising with the filling of her lungs, she held it.

«Why is Blackwood targeting babies?» She inquired, fingers grazing on the cover of her notebook. «I get witches, although this trials and terror regime are deprecable, to say the least, but- I don’t get why he’s after the babies as well.»

Zelda immediately looked down at Adam. Seemingly interested in the conversation, he was peering up with bleary eyes, lips pursed into a silent question.

«The official statement is that he wants to kill witches when they’re vulnerable, but I think it’s just… poppycock.» She sighed heavily, though a smile was blooming on her lips, just for Adam. The answer to that question simply didn’t hold up: why would a grown man who claimed to want to free the world from the plague of witches and their evil magic had to be afraid of babies? She could find a reason to hunt down monsters, babies were innocent; going after helpless little things, regardless of their nature, was vile and horrendous.

«How can we get Adam marked?»

Zelda whipped her head up so quickly that her whole body jerked in dismay.

«What?» She gasped, her jaw slacken.

Lilith was gazing back at her, eyes bright and intense and yet full of some unspoken request for help. The redhead would have done anything to make it go away.

«When I knocked on your door, you asked me if Adam was marked.» She said, the pen tapping impatiently on her thigh. «So, how do people get a mark on their children?»

The redhead blinked in dismay. Lilith wasn’t really asking for that.

«It’s like a ceremony,» Zelda stammered, shaking her head while, unconsciously, she clutched the baby closer to her, «similar to a christening but much more-»

«If he’s marked, it means he’s safe from Blackhood’s frenzy of killing witches or possible witches, right?»

«Technically yes, but-»

«Then tell me how to get him marked.» Lilith insisted, her voice slightly raised, unquivering, imposing. «I woke up in the Church, Blackwood is after _me_.» She stated. «He is a baby, hence he can be easily disguised.»

«Lilith, you don’t really want to-»

«You could take Adam and present him as your own.»

Zelda remained silent at that, mouth agape. _Shock_ was an understatement to what she felt: Lilith, who was so attached to her son because he was the only thing she had in her life, had just asked her to take the baby away and claimed to be his mother, to save him. She was stunned, but nothing could’ve prepared her for the clear shadow of surprise that cloaked Lilith’s eyes, as if the woman hadn’t premeditated that option. It was strange to think that the first thing that popped out in her frightened, desperate mind was entrusting Adam to her so blindly.

«Lilith, I-» The redhead’s heart clenched. Suddenly, she felt uncomfortable holding Adam: she didn’t want to agree to that because it felt like she was going to steal that baby from her, and regardless of her feelings, Zelda wasn’t going to take that baby anywhere without his mother. Getting him marked was simply something they would not do. «It’s not up for discussion.» She breathed out, maybe even a little too harshly, because both Lilith and Adam jerked - one snapping out of her dazzlement, the other joining the heated conversation with some grumpy gurgles. «Lilith, getting a mark is inhumane, and before anyone tries to test Adam to provide him with one, they’ll have to go through me.»

Zelda frowned and swallowed, shaking her head for how cheesy she’d just sounded, but actually, she didn’t really care. She would have done the same for any of her students and she would have done the same for Lilith or her son too, without question. Perhaps she was simply voicing her recklessness rather than courage, but it was what she felt like doing. She couldn’t live a day knowing she hadn’t done everything to save a life from Blackwood.

«Why, what do they do?»

Lilith wasn’t curious, she could see it in her eyes. Lilith was scared and her eyes were full of unshed tears, her hands were gripping the notebook so hard that a few corners were getting crushed. Lilith needed to know for some reason she wouldn’t share and Zelda didn’t want to have any secrets: she’d promise to help, to answer every question if possible and she would do it gladly if that could spare Adam that fate.

The redhead cleared her throat and peered at the babe in her arms, rocking him slightly just to promise him silently that she would never let it happen to him.

«The sentinels take the babies and starve them for days.» She said, her voice emotionless. «You see, witches are supposed to need less food than humans, so starvation is the most efficient way to discern monsters from non-magical creatures, especially when they’re young.»

«And then?»

«When they’re close to death, they get marked.» Zelda swallowed, wincing as some imaginary smell invaded her nostrils, making her nauseous and her head throb painfully again. «To the presence of Blackwood, the lieutenant brands them personally, with fire, as if they’re calves.» She gulped, trying to ignore the burning sensation in her stomach. «But babies are fragile, feeble things, and after days of starvation, very few of them survive anyway.» Zelda smiled down at the infant, her hand splaying on his rounded torso protectively. No, she would never let anyone lay a single hand on him.

«People agree to this madness?»

Without tearing her eyes from the babe, the redhead nodded slowly.

«People who follow Blackwood are insane.» She stated, shrugging helplessly. It was sad and frightening as much as it was true. «They would rather have their child dead than unmarked.»

Like they both would often do, she shifted Adam on her shoulder and let him curl against her chest, little nose pressed on her neck as he settled down, small lashes tickling her skin. How could anyone think to sentence their own child to death in exchange for some stupid mark? How could no one of them see how cruel and barbaric it was? Yet, the answer was easily found. Zelda, like the others, had simply been lucky enough to have been born in a time where marks weren’t still a thing, that was why Blackwood was trying so hard to locate the witches among adults and teens, marking the suspects with a W on the door of their houses, instead of a B on their arms.

«I don’t know what to do.» The brunette breathed out tiredly.

Zelda lifted her gaze on her, watching helplessly as she grazed her fingers over her face. She was spent, desolate, and in a moment of utter discomfort, she’d pushed the notebook off her thighs and let it fall to the floor, the pen rolling away somewhere, both soon forgotten.

«I don’t know what I’m doing most of the time either.» Zelda offered her a sympathetic smile. Without waiting for an answer, she stood up and waited for Lilith to focus on her before handing her the baby. She hoped his very presence could soothe her spirit, make Lilith feel his weight in her arms to ground her and anchor her. Adam had that effect on Zelda, he must have had the same effects on his mother, if not stronger.

Sighing, she lowered herself on the padded arm of the chair and peered down at them, Adam immediately curling against his mother’s bosom to sleep. She had her students, Lilith had Adam, and, somehow, although not officially, they had each other to look after, both for different reasons. The time to finally thrive in the open would come, they only needed to wait. Zelda knew they would do it, that they would all be free, someday.

She leaned on the backseat and threw her arm around, careful not to disturb either mother or son, and yet, she couldn’t help but notice how close her fingers were to Lilith’s hair. One inch lower, and she could’ve actually touched her slightly tousled tresses. Zelda knew she should’ve moved her hands away to avoid an embarrassing situation, but she simply didn’t: the closeness was enough to make her feel uneasy and calm at the same time and she longed for that feeling.

«We’ll get through.» She whispered, only to have some sound to hold on to over the buzzing of her own, dangerous thoughts.

She heard Lilith’s vague hum and sighed again. It was easy to think that they needed to survive and stay strong for others since their beloved ones’ welfare was their main sparkle to keep the fire of hope alive.

Yet, it wasn’t enough: moments of dejection were always lurking somewhere, ready to take over and throw them into darkness. Perhaps, they also needed to find something for themselves and be able to have sufficed air in their lungs to rekindle the embers of faith for a bright future - and maybe, who knew, one to share too.

* * *

Carefully peering around the corner, she made sure the area was completely empty and stepped into the hall of the Academy. It was late at night, everyone was home or locked into their rooms or dormitories fast asleep, but she couldn’t be too careful. Holding her own elbows and securing the stolen robe around her body, Lilith padded barefoot toward the center of the hollow room and positioned herself in front of the stairs, staring with a disgusted face at the bronze bust of Blackwood placed in the middle of the room.

She remembered when there was the Dark Lord there, his goat-form carved into stones that had welcomed each and every witch or warlock for Greendale and its surroundings for generations; then it had been the time of the first Blackwood idol, his first mania of building a Church of Judas to his image and using his son as a vessel; she winced and scoffed with a breathy laugh, her head shaking slightly when she realized that Zelda Spellman had never installed a deity effigy in her honor as she’d done with her Triple Goddess... but it wasn’t the time to hold grudges.

Lilith could get angry at the dormant witch for various reasons for things that happened in the past, but the Zelda Spellman who lived in that reality was a different person. Or, to better say, she was the same, but without the mask of tough witch she’d sewed above her face over the centuries and Lilith could only find delectable the different personalities between worlds.

In the other reality, she owed Zelda Spellman her own life and her son’s. In this one, she owed her that and even more. She’d always suspected that, under other circumstances, they would get along but now she had the proof of that theory. And they didn’t just get along, they talked, they understood each other, they took care of one another when it was needed, naturally, easily, without self-interest but because they simply wanted to. And together, they took care of Adam.

 _Adam_. Adam, whom she swore the day he was born to protect and never leave him with another, was currently tucked in his makeshift cot, sleeping in the room alone and safe with Zelda Spellman and she wasn’t feeling anxious about it, not one bit.

He had been conceived out of survival instincts and in the unnatural short period of gestation, her stay of execution became something different. The baby she thought she would despise for simply having angelic blood within him, could be her salvation: a creature that she could finally raise as her own, with whom she shared part of her own blood, someone to cherish and love and who loved her back like had never happened before. The moment he entered the world, everything became clear, her mission established. Adam would have uplifted them both and it was her job to protect him until he wouldn’t be able to provide for himself. Since the day she was created, she’d never had someone to truly call hers, but Adam had changed that. After millennia of solitude, she had finally someone to call her own.

Or so she thought. Because no one really owned another person, and Lilith had the chance to learn it softly, in the easy way, slowly, from the first time Zelda Spellman had dared to scoop Adam up from his cot to shush him. Day after day, unknowingly, the dormant witch had shown her that her son could share bonds with other people too while still remaining safe, cherished, and taken care of.

Lilith had been alone for so long that the realization took a while to sink in, but now that she could see clearly, her beliefs were crumbling down. Only one week ago, she would have never thought parting from her son was possible, and yet, only hours before, while her head full of flawed plans to restore what was lost, she’d asked _-_ _begged -_ Zelda Spellman to grab Adam, venture outside and present him as her own.

She couldn’t believe, at first, how she’d let those words escape her mouth, but now it was all clear: Zelda Spellman was not _people_ \- like she had already established a while ago -, she had imposed herself as another maternal figure for him from the moment she took them in, and Adam accepted her instantly. Lilith should’ve felt skeptical or suspicious, and perhaps, for a while, she’d felt some jealousy, but everything subsided quickly at the thought that it only could mean that there was another person to care for him deeply and that person was no other than the High Priestess of the Church of Hecate. She knew the witch, she knew her strength and determination, and it was reassuring. Beside his own mother, Zelda Spellman was the best guardian her son could have.

After all, the redhead witch had always been his guardian, even in the other world: she took them in when Lilith begged for help, doubled over in pain on the stairs of the Academy. Childbirth could be - and it had been - a hard business, but motherhood was even harder.

She, as the Mother of Demons, had known the term, yet never felt it truly. She’d birthed monsters, creatures born from parts of her body or molded from dirt by her hands, she had always had the power to give life, she was generated like that by the False God, but Adam was the first with whom she fulfilled the purpose of her original creation. And Zelda helped her become a mother.

Even if it hadn’t been discussed, the younger Spellman sister delivered the child, but Zelda had been the one to cast the spell; she’d suffered with her, pushed with her, protected her from the curse that was meant to tear her insides and saved both hers and Adam’s life.

Unaware, Zelda Spellman was a night mother to her son - or whatever the title was in Hecate’s cult - and still was in that perverted reality and kept providing for them. She had never thought about it before, but if anyone else would have to be in charge of her son’s safety, then she would entrust Zelda Spellman and nobody else. The witch was strong, powerful, devoted to whichever cause she decided was worth her time and energies and for how painful it was to realize, she cared deeply for Adam because Zelda Spellman was a mother as well, although without a child of her own: while the demoness had Adam to protect, Zelda Spellman had an entire Coven.  
Their mission might’ve looked different, but in reality, they were but one and the same. Now Lilith could see through her and understand her a little more.

«What are you doing here?»

Zelda’s voice echoed through the empty hall. Even if she hadn’t shouted, but merely whispered - although loudly and angrily - the question got carried up high into the ceiling, working as a siren call for the demoness.

She whipped her head, heart in her throat because she knew she wasn’t supposed to be there and, the worst thing, she’d got caught.

Lilith let out a heavy sigh, watching as the dormant witch padded toward her, billowy robe flaring behind her, loose red curls settled on one shoulder, the other occupied by her own son, securely curled there and kept close by Zelda to her chest.

«I couldn’t sleep.» The brunette replied sincerely, hoping that the simple answer, however, would suffice.

The witch stepped closer, her enraged face softening just slightly, blazing green eyes lowering for a moment, her whole body quaking as she rocked an already drowsy Adam in her arms.

«We woke up and you weren’t there.» She murmured, her voice slightly frenzy.

«He woke up?» Lilith swallowed uneasily, brow pinched because that wouldn’t explain her son’s calmness. She stretched her neck to peer at his partially hidden face, nose, as always, pressed against the witch’s collarbone.

Zelda stilled her movements, gaze still low and elusive, and tilted her cheek to rest it on the crown of the baby’s head.

«I woke up.» The redhead corrected with a small sigh. «I woke up, you weren’t there, so I took him and came to look for you.»

Lilith blinked and stared at her, puzzled.  
When she decided to venture outside the safety of Zelda’s chambers, the need to be alone becoming unbearable, she had never thought the witch would have ever exited the headquarters with Adam, gambling with the possibility of the baby to start crying and wake up someone. On second thought, it would’ve been irresponsible to just leave Adam alone, but the most unsettling thing was that Zelda came to look for her in the first place.

Lilith was simply not used to people looking for her deliberately, everyone had always had a reason to call for her, whether it was to lay under her first husband and fulfill her only purpose to bear children, or to create monsters for her fallen master, or to babysit an unworthy Queen of Hell who just couldn’t complete the simplest of tasks. People would call for her and ask things.

Zelda Spellman would come to look for her simply because the witch hadn’t found her where she was supposed to be. She would never dare to ask to confirm of course, but she also looked rather concerned. It was strange to imagine that she could be the reason for that concern, but it wasn’t unpleasant; it was a warm, fuzzy feeling that Lilith struggled to recognize but longed for nonetheless.

«I’m sorry you had to come to look for me, I-»

«What were you thinking?» Zelda spat, catching the demoness off guard and cutting the flow of words. Adding to her surprise, the redhead walked closed and grabbed her arm. Her fingers didn’t hurt, but she was strong and the grasp firm, right on the verge of triggering unpleasant memories. And yet, unlike any other time, the thought dissipated into thin air immediately when she peered into the green of those eyes and recognized who was behind them - that too, was a first.

«I needed to be alone.» The demoness breathed out, her throat suddenly dry. «I thought some walking-»

«You can get lost in here.» Zelda interrupted again, but this time, her voice came joined by a sharp exhale. «This place is a maze if you don’t know where to go and it’s dark. And what if someone sees you?»

Lilith knew her way around the Academy of Unseen Art, or School of Art in that realm - her knowledge was limited but it was there - yet, she couldn’t tell Zelda that: after all, she was supposed to barely know the path from the back gate to the headquarters from the day the witch took them in.

«I’ve been careful.» The demoness assured, wiggling her arm gently to let the woman get the cue to release her. She didn’t. Or, to better say, she released her arm but not Lilith entirely.

«Come on, let’s go back.» Zelda urged and, instead of tugging her arm, she walked closer to her side and her hand traveled from there to the small of her back.

Lilith immediately straightened her back, all her muscles engaged into a tensed position. Even to mentally flee from that featherlike pressure, she followed her lead and started walking through the corridors; the hand resting on her loins was gentle, and yet, under the sheer fabric of her nightwear and the stolen robe, those fingers felt scalding like tongues of fire.

«What’s gotten into you?» Zelda inquired, her voice barely audible not to startle the sleepy baby, but her words were sharp and her demeanor authoritative.

Lilith didn’t answer, merely chewing on her bottom lip and folding her hands on her chest protectively. She watched as the dormant witch settled Adam into his cot, tucking him into his blankets for the night. Zelda was always extra careful when she put the infant to sleep, following a very strict routine that the demoness sometimes replicated because it seemed to soothe Adam more than anything else: first, she cocooned him in his blankets, then she rearranged the padding around the edges of the bassinet, then she would stroke his fuzzy hair until she was sure he’d drifted off and, lastly, for a couple of minutes, she would keep her finger close to his nose to check on his breathing.

Lilith knew the movements by heart, but right now, she found herself staring anyway, totally captured by the way Zelda’s hands moved around the baby. When she was done, she straightened her back and spun on her heels, taking a few steps away from the cot to avoid disturbing his sleep, and glared at Lilith. The way she crossed her arms and lifted her eyebrows, so much in fact that they almost reached her hairline, the demoness felt under a trial she wouldn’t be able to escape.

«Do you have any idea how reckless and irresponsible your little night stroll was?»

Even if Zelda wasn’t aware of her true nature - First Woman, Mother of Demons, Dawn of Doom, and other titles that meant very little right now - she had no right to yell at her like that. Lilith might admit it had been a thoughtless decision, but no one caught them, nobody was endangered and they were safely back into their golden cage of bogus salvation. What was all that fuss about? Zelda had all the right to feel stressed and anxious but she couldn’t lash out at her like that. She wasn’t one of her students, she knew about the seriousness of it all - perhaps even more than Zelda herself.

«It wasn’t my best decision,» the demoness admitted with a sharp sigh, «but I was very careful.» She reiterated. «I would never put either of you in danger.» Eyebrow cocked, she moved her gaze from Zelda to the cot, hoping that could be eloquent enough for the witch to see through her and understand that she really had meant no harm - in the event, she needed actual proof to believe her words.

Zelda’s brow pinched stubbornly, her green eyes blinking rapidly, the glimmer in them shifting in quick succession.

«Well, you’re under my care, so you can’t just disappear like that in the middle of the night.» She murmured, the determination in her voice faltering just barely.

Lilith shifted her weight from one foot to the other, the tip of her tongue running on her teeth, unseen behind her sealed lips. She narrowed her eyes, her brain working fast as she studied and connected all the dots like crumbs of bread left by an unaware Zelda Spellman: she might not have the assistance of her supernatural powers in that reality, but millennia in that world - she’d seen it born and grow and become populated with all kinds of creatures and witches - allowed her to know about the human soul which, unlike the most thought, was so very similar to the one witches and warlock owned, albeit concealed under a thick layer of superiority that other had the task to break. Zelda Spellman was left with just her human spirit there, and yet that protective shield was up anyway.

Because she had no right to be that kind of furious: concerned - perhaps -, enraged, but upon establishing that everything was alright, that act wouldn’t hold up any longer. And in fact, Lilith realized, perhaps she wasn’t furious at all.

The brunette got a small intake of air from her ajar lips and lifted her gaze on Zelda. The woman gasped silently, and the other watched her throat moving slowly as she struggled to swallow.

Lilith took another look in those eyes and found dread in them. Not just the plain fear that they both grew accustomed to over the days and learned how to harness together, not the same concern they shared for their own lives and the lives of others, but something else entirely.

«You thought I left?» She inquired, though it didn’t really come out as a question, but as a statement.

With a faint scrunch of her nose, Lilith realized that she’d voiced nothing but the plain truth: Zelda Spellman had rushed out of her chambers with Adam because she thought the demoness had left.

The guilty expression that the witch tried - and failed - to disguise with a twitch of her face muscles only served as a confirmation.

«People leave all the time and over less.» Zelda mumbled. «You made all those weird talks, this afternoon, and-» She sighed, cutting off her own words. «I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.»

«You thought I left Adam behind?» Lilith wondered, her voice but a wheeze.

How could she ever think she could abandon her own son? And then, even if she wouldn’t say it out loud, did she have to remind Zelda that she’d made a promise not too long ago? One day, one that perhaps wasn’t even too far off, she would have to break it. But not today and certainly not like that: disappearing into the dead of night without telling anyone wasn’t something she could do, especially not now. Despite what anyone might think of her, the eternal second, the eternal servant, she’d never escaped from danger.

Dismay and anger started to chase around within her body, cursing through her veins like a disease. It was true that she’d done nothing but lie and betray, especially toward the Spellmans since the Dark Lord had entrusted her with the task of leading His own daughter to sign the Book of the Beast, but this was different: Lilith would never think of betraying the same person who saved her life more than once by leaving her behind. Adam was only a warranty.

«I know you wouldn’t.» Zelda admitted with a small voice, her gaze low on the patternless planks of the wooden floor. «It was unfair of me to think that, but- I did, for a moment. It was because of that conversation, you… you’re not the same and I can’t understand what’s going through that head of yours.» The witch sighed sharply, then took a tentative step closer to her. «Talk to me?»

Lilith felt the urge to step back from her, yet she realized in time that the distance she wanted to put between them was only a physical demonstration of the mental one she didn’t wish to create; hence, in the end, she didn’t step back to avoid rising up her barrier again. It was clear that Zelda could understand her more than she liked to admit, but the fact that Lilith wanted to let her in, was something that the demoness hadn’t taken into account.

Over the course of her long life, she had allowed few people to see her so vulnerable and each and every one of them had perished in the most ignoble ways; Zelda was the one still standing, but also the only one she hadn’t granted full access yet - she was close, perhaps even the closest anyone had gotten, but not completely in. And perhaps, in order to keep her safe, she had the duty of denying her access. Perhaps.

Because Lilith could fear the outcome of finally opening with another person, but she had plenty of time and evidence to see that people were stronger together.

The demoness sighed, unable to sustain the growing tension between the two of them, the silence almost deafening. She didn’t know what a migraine was, but she could only give that name to the ache that was throbbing in her head.

Rubbing angrily at her forehead with the pads of her fingers, she scoffed and hurried to the chair, sitting heavily on the one that faced the spent mantel, the high backrest concealing her from Zelda’s gaze.

There was no escape. There was no escape whatsoever. Not from that room, not from that place, not from that perverted world that Blackwood had created, not even from Zelda Spellman. Her only hope to restore reality so far away that she could barely envisage, it was so faded and unreachable that she couldn’t even make out a plan anymore.

In situations like that one, she truly wished that insufferable brat would come up with one of her crazy ideas that, somehow, even with some backfire, seemed to always work so well; but that too seemed out of option because Sabrina was nowhere to be found. Did she even exist at all? Did Blackwood erase her like she almost erased her powers? It made sense, it was logical. Unfortunate for them, but a masterstroke for that hideous man.

«Lilith?»

A rapid glimpse to the source of that silvery sound and she saw Zelda emerging from behind the back of her chair. Immediately, Lilith averted her eyes and fixed her gaze on the spent ashes in the fireplace as if she could actually see the blazes there and get hypnotized by their perpetual burning.

«We’re doomed.» The demoness scoffed, the smile that appeared on her lips totally delusional. She shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment, amused by her own helplessness - she’d often felt like that, for various reasons, but now she was truly powerless.

«Doomed? We’re not doomed, I don’t accept it.» The witch snarled back, brow furrowed. She walked until she was in plain sight and slightly leaned forward, her posture imposing and demanding, under which Lilith felt small and exposed. «I just don’t understand what happened. We were… _fine_.» She breathed out, her severe expression going in tandem with one of pure sorrow. «What is it?»

She felt trapped, her only chance to escape her was to talk and confess to Zelda Spellman, hoping she would understand better what was going on inside her head and, mercifully, hoping she would also decide to stop pressing on her cracks.

«Sometimes I feel like I’m going insane.» Lilith finally admitted. «As soon as I find a solution that might ease our problems I reach a dead-end and I can only wait for something that, perhaps, will never come.» Ridiculous how the table had turned, for her to actually wish Sabrina was there. «And in the meanwhile, I’m stuck here.»

Her body grew tense when she felt a shift of air coming closer, then the soft squeak of the armchair, the dipping of one of the arms’ cushions when Zelda, like she’d done already before, took a seat there.

Lilith heard her breathing, she heard the rustle of the old fabric when she leaned back, her arm thrown over the headrest almost carelessly.

«And is it really that bad, being stuck here?» She wondered, her voice soft like velvet. She wasn’t looking yet, but Lilith could’ve sworn she was smiling too.

Maybe it was an unconscious gesture, maybe it was meant to be protective, and Lilith simply felt… caged. But what surprised her the most was that she didn’t feel like running.  
She carefully blinked her eyes open and, very slowly, tilted her head up to meet the witch’s gaze; Zelda was indeed smiling and yet it didn’t bring any peace like it used to do lately, but another turmoil to lash out inside her chest.

«I’m not- I’m not sure.» She mumbled, her voice trapped between a hiccup and a wheeze.

She’d gone there willingly when she thought the world had collapsed and all the Ninth Circles of Hell were after her and Adam, she’d locked in that chamber with her enemy for weeks, building up her own cage from which, right now, she couldn’t and wouldn’t escape.

«You’re afraid Blackwood will come here and find you.» Zelda offered, eyes slightly narrowed.

Lilith hinted a small scoff: the redhead didn’t know, her knowledge was limited, and could only worry - and with good reason - about the Emperor declaring her guilty of hiding a fugitive and her son who had a clear value in his perverted plan. They were both aware they were relatively safe in their bubble, but for how long? None of them could get out, but that wouldn’t stop any evil from getting in, and that only added to the realization of actually being helpless in restoring reality.

«Among other things.» She replied with a small voice, teeth worrying at her lip.

She was about to lower her gaze again, her mind already searching for a better argument to divert attention from that conversation or hoping for the both of them to crave for some blessed silence, when she realized that she couldn’t move her face, that she couldn’t turn her head away.

It took her a while to feel the warmth on her cheek. Then she felt the fingers softly splayed on her skin.

«I promised you this once, but I’ll say it again.» Zelda murmured. There was still fear in her eyes, but it was glimmering alongside determination and pride, which were the two things that silenced Lilith, what made her listen. «No one is going to hurt you or your son, I won’t allow it.»

Despite herself, the demoness let out a wet giggle. The bittersweet taste in her mouth clouding her brain for an instant - she wanted to wrap her fingers around that slender wrist, tugging her hand close just to feel a contact she’d craved for so long and had always been denied to her - but the situation was simply absurd.

That promise could have passed in the beginning, when she was scared for her life and Zelda Spellman was the only one still standing, maybe a little insecure, maybe even a little stumbling, but she was standing, proud and sure about what to do.

By now, Lilith had thought she would have come up with a plan, that the lead had been passed on to her, that all those lives had become her own responsibility because she knew what to do. Like always, nothing had gone according to plan.

Lilith was still in the throes of that perverted world and with very little chance to actually do something useful, or do anything at all other than wait and hope no one would ever decide to search the building because of some reports of crying in the nights they weren’t aware of - honestly, it only felt like a matter of time before something like that happened.

Lilith was only living another kind of stay of execution, in another world, under different circumstances, and would have even dragged her innocent son with her, this time. The witch could promise as much as she liked, the truth was that they were both defenseless and pawns of an imp-perverted fate.

Lilith blinked and smiled up at her, though there was nothing happy or reassuring in that gesture. The demoness felt only sadness washing over her and her inability to let that hand on her cheek soothe her only added to her discomfort.

«What will you do when Blackwood comes here and threatens to hurt even one of your children in exchange for information about me or Adam?» She asked, her voice so close to a wheeze. «What will you do, then?»

The expression on Zelda’s face didn’t shift a bit, as if she knew something that the demoness completely ignored.

«Things will change.» She whispered back.

Lilith’s breath hitched when she felt the subtle movement of her thumb running across her cheekbone. Could she allow herself to relax the muscles in her body, could she allow herself to lean into the touch, let it soothe her, even for a moment, could she allow herself to hope?

«Things won’t change.» She insisted. «You and I both know that there will come a time when you’ll have to make a choice, and the children must always come first.» Who better than she could understand? A mother would do anything to save her younglings. What could possibly make Zelda choose two strangers, probably already doomed, over her own children, the same she’d sworn to protect and keep safe much longer ago? There was no reason to get attached to an illusion. «You won’t be able to protect us all, Zelda Spellman.»

Her mouth remained ajar, that name still lingering oh-so-sweetly on her tongue and lips.

She frowned when she noticed the shiny surface cloaking the green of her eyes: tears were about to escape Zelda's lashes and yet, the witch kept smiling.

«But I can try.» Lilith’s breath got caught in her throat when she felt warm fingers slipping on the nape of her neck, tips digging into her hair.

Zelda tugged her gently and, at the same time, she leaned in to press their foreheads together.

The tenderness of that gesture left Lilith equally surprised, vulnerable, and calm.

She felt like she could lower her shield and, without even thinking about it, she did; all her muscles felt loose, her heart thumped just slightly stronger in her chest.

She peered in those eyes, which had never been so close to hers, and found peace.

At that moment, Lilith realized that a perverted world where Blackwood was Emperor, where mortals worshipped him and his sickening creed, where false witches were persecuted and real witches had forgotten about their magic, one where she was cursed by something painfully close to humanity, where her own life and Adam’s were at stake, wasn’t so terrible; because in the end, despite all that, Zelda Spellman was in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment, let me know what you think & make me happy! Thank you ♡


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